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THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED 
BY HIS FRIEND AND PUPIL 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

CHAPTER I 
The Nature and Methods of Ethics 

PAGE 

1. The Function of Science 1 

2. The Subject-matter of the Sciences 3 

3. The Science of Ethics 4 

4. The Data of Ethics 7 

5. The Subject-matter of Ethical Judgment .... 9 

6. Definition of Ethics 11 

7. The Interrelation of Sciences 12 

8. Ethics and Psychology 13 

9. Ethics and Politics 16 

10. Ethics and Metaphysics 17 

11. The Methods of Ethics 20 

12. Theoretical Ethics and Practical Ethics .... 22 

13. The Value of Ethics 23 

CHAPTER II 
Theories of Conscience 

1. Introduction 26 

2. The Mythical View 27 

3. The Rationalistic Intuitionists 28 

(1) The Schoolmen 29 

(2) Cudworth 32 

(3) Clarke 33 

(4) Calderwood 34 

4. The Emotional Intuitionists 36 

(1) Shaftesbury 37 

(2) Hutcheson 38 

(3) Hume 39 

(4) Rousseau, Kant, A. Smith, Herbart, Brentano . 41 

vii 



Vlll 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



PAGE 

The Perceptional Intuitionists 42 

(1) Butler 42 

(2) Martineau 43 

The Empiricists 47 

(1) Hobbes 47 

(2) Locke 48 

(3) Helve"tius 53 

(4) Paley 54 

(5) Bentham 55 

(6) Hartley 56 

(7) Bain 57 

Reconciliation of Intuitionism and Empiricism . . 59 

(1) Kant 60 

(2) Darwin 64 

(3) Spencer 6Q 

(4) Contemporaries 72 



CHAPTER III 



9. 
10. 
11. 
12. 



Analysis and Explanation or Conscience 



The Psychological Pacts .... 

Analysis of Conscience .... 

The Feeling of Obligation 

The Peelings of Approval and Disapproval 

Conscience as Judgment .... 

Criticism of Intuitionism .... 

Criticism of Emotional Intuitionism 

Genesis of Conscience .... 

In what Sense Conscience is Innate 

The Infallibility and Immediacy of Conscience 

Conscience and Inclination 

The Historical View and Morality . 



74 

76 

79 

82 

83 

85 

91 

93 

100 

105 

107 

111 



CHAPTER IV 
The Ultimate Ground or Moral Distinctions 

1. Conscience as the Standard 116 

2. The Theological View 117 



TABLE OF CONTENTS IX 

PAGE 

3. The Popular View 118 

4. The Teleological View . . . . . .118 

5. Arguments for Teleology 119 

6. Teleological Schools 125 

7. Summary 127 

CHAPTER V 
The Teleological View 

1. Conscience and Teleology 129 

2. Categorical and Hypothetical Imperatives . . . 133 

3. Actual Effects and Natural Effects . .. . . .134 

4. A Hypothetical Question answered 136 

5. Morality and Prosperity ....... 137 

6. Imperfect Moral Codes 137 

7. Moral Reform 139 

8. The Ultimate Sanction of the Moral Law ... 140 

9. Motives and Effects 141 

10. The End justifies the Means 146 

11. Teleology and Atheism 150 

12. Teleology and Intuitionism 152 

CHAPTER VI 
Theories of the Highest Good : Hedonism 

1. The Standard of Morality and the Highest Good . . 155 

2. The Greek Formulation of the Problem .... 156 

3. The Cyrenaics 158 

4. Epicurus 160 

5. Democritus 162 

6. Locke 163 

7. Butler .164 

8. Hutcheson 165 

9. Hume 166 

10. Paley 167 

11. Bentham 168 

12. John Stuart Mill 169 

13. Sidgwick and Contemporaries 173 

14. General Survey 176 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



CHAPTER VII 

Theories of the Highest Good: Energism 

page 

1. Socrates 180 

2. Plato 181 

3. The Cynics 183 

4. Aristotle 184 

5. The Stoics 186 

6. The Neo-Platonists 188 

7. Hoboes 190 

8. Spinoza 190 

9. Cumberland 193 

10. Shaftesbury 194 

11. Darwin 195 

12. Stephen «... 197 

13. Jhering 198 

14. Wundt and Contemporaries 199 

15. Kant 200 

16. General Survey 203 



CHAPTER VIII 
Critique of Hedonism 

1. The Conception of the Highest Good 

2. Pleasure as the Highest Good . 

3. The Antecedents of Action 

4. The Antecedents of Volition . 

5. Conclusions ..... 

6. The Hedonistic Psychology of Action 

7. Present or Apprehended Pleasure-pain as 

8. Present Pleasure-pain as the Motive 

9. Pain as the Motive .... 

10. Unconscious Pleasure-pain as the Motive 

11. The Psychological Fallacies of Hedonism 

12. The Pleasure of the Race as the Motive . 

13. Pleasure as the End realized by All Action 

14. Pleasure-pain as a Means of Preservation 

15. The Physiological Basis of Pleasure-pain 

16. Metaphysical Hedonism .... 

17. Pleasure as the Moral End 



the 



Motive 



205 
207 
209 
215 
217 
217 
218 
228 
232 
234 
236 
239 
239 
242 
246 
247 
249 



TABLE OF CONTENTS xi 

CHAPTER IX 
The Highest Good 

PAGE 

1. The Question of Ends or Ideals 250 

2. The Ideal of Humanity 253 

3. Egoism and Altruism 258 

4. The Effects of Action 258 

5. The Motives of Action 261 

6. Criticism of Egoism 263 

7. Selfishness and Sympathy 267 

8. Moral Motive and Moral Action ..... 269 

9. Biology and the Highest Good 276 

10. Morality and the Highest Good 278 

11. Conclusion 284 

CHAPTER X 

Optimism versus Pessimism 

1. Optimism and Pessimism 286 

2. Subjective Pessimism 287 

3. Scientific Pessimism 289 

4. Intellectual Pessimism 291 

6. Emotional Pessimism 292 

6. Volitional Pessimism 303 

CHAPTER XI 
Character and Freedom 

1. Virtues and Vices 311 

2. Character 313 

3. The Freedom of the Will 316 

4. Determinism 319 

5. Theological Theories 323 

6. Metaphysical Theories 324 

7. Reconciliation of Freedom and Determinism . . . 327 

8. Criticism of Indeterminisrn 329 

9. The Consciousness of Freedom 334 

10. Responsibility 336 

11. Determinism and Practice 337 

Index 341 



INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

CHAPTER I 

THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 1 

1. The Function of Science. — The world presents 
us with an endless array of phenomena. These 
phenomena the human mind observes and endeavors 
to understand. It notices that things and occur- 
rences are, to a certain extent, uniform and constant, 
that nature is regular and orderly. The intellect of 
man strives to detect similarities or uniformities in 
things and actions, and to arrange these in groups 
or classes. It brings order into apparent confusion, 

1 Sidgwick, The Methods of Ethics, pp. 1-24 ; The History of 
Ethics, chap, i ; Stephen, The Science of Ethics, pp. 1-40 ; Schur- 
man, The Ethical Import of Darwinism, pp. 1-37 ; Hoffding, Ethik, 
pp. 1-54 ; Mtmsterberg, Der Ursprung der Sittlichkeit, pp. 1-10 ; 
Wundt, Ethics, English translation, pp. 1-20 ; Paulsen, A System 
of Ethics, edited and translated by Frank Thilly, pp. 1-29; Muir- 
head, Elements of Ethics, pp. 1-39 ; Mackenzie, Manual of Ethics, 
pp. 1-31, 324-328 ; Hyslop, The Elements of Ethics, pp. 1-17 ; 
J. Seth, A Study of Ethical Principles, pp. 1-35 ; Marion, Lemons 
de morale, chap, i ; Runze, Ethik, Vol. I, pp. 1-16 ; Dorner, Das 
menschliche Handeln, Introduction ; Sigwart, Logic, translated by 
Helen Dendy, Vol. II, pp. 529 ff. The beginner will find the works 
of Paulsen, Muirhead, Mackenzie, and Hyslop especially serviceable 
in connection with this chapter. 

B 1 



2 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

it makes a cosmos out of the chaos, it analyzes and 
classifies. 

But it does not stop here. It would know why 
things are as they are, why they act as they act. 
The thinker is not content with knowing what is; 
the great question is, Why is it so, what is the rea- 
son for its being as it is ? What is its relation to 
other things and occurrences, what are the antece- 
dents and concomitants upon which it is said to 
depend, and without which it cannot be what it is ? 
What are its consequents or effects ; in short, what 
place does it occupy in the world of facts, how does it 
fit into the system of things ? The tendency to find 
out the why and wherefore of things is universal; 
it manifests itself in the child who wonders " what 
makes the wheels go round " in his plaything, no 
less than in the natural philosopher who longs 
to know why the rain falls and the wind blows 
and the grass grows. And there is something 
of a Newton in the most superstitious savage. 
Science begins with a question mark; it begins when 
reasons .are sought after, and its perfection is meas- 
ured by the manner in which its problems are solved. 
Events which were once explained by supernatural 
causes are now referred to their natural antecedents 
or concomitants, but the scientific instinct is essen- 
tially the same as in those dark ages when our be- 
nighted forefathers ascribed the thunder to the 
thunder god, and regarded Apollo as the hurler of 
the shafts of disease and death. The scientist is 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 3 

born when man begins to wonder at facts, and aims 
to correlate them with other facts or insert them 
into a system, be it ever so crude. 1 

2. The Subject-matter of the Sciences. — Science, 
therefore, analyzes, classifies, and explains phenomena. 
Now we may, for the sake of order and convenience, 
arrange these phenomena into different groups or 
classes, and form different sciences. Each particular 
science marks out for itself a particular subject- 
matter, and studies this. Thus physics investigates 
the general properties of matter, biology treats of 
matter in the living state, psychology examines 
mental processes or states of consciousness. Each 
of these sciences may in turn be subdivided until 
we have an endless number of special sciences, cor- 
responding to limited fields of investigation. In 
every case, however, the attempt is made not only 



1 See Muirhead, The Elements of Ethics, § 8; Hibben, Induc- 
tive Logic, chap, i; Creigliton, Logic, §§ 49, 59 ff., 78, 88; Sigwart, 
Logic, Vol. II, pp. 417 ff. I quote from Creighton's Logic, p. 285 : 
"We have said that Judgment constructs a system of knowledge. 
This implies, then, that it is not merely a process of adding one 
fact to another, as we might add one stone to another to form a 
heap. No ! Judgment combines the new facts with which it deals 
with what is already known, in such a way as to give to each its 
own proper place. Different facts are not only brought together, 
but they are arranged, related, systematized. No fact is allowed 
to stand by itself, but has to take its place as a member of a larger 
system of facts, and receive its value from this connection. Of 
course, a single judgment is not sufficient to bring a large number 
of facts into relation in this way. But each judgment contributes 
something to this end, and brings some new fact into relation to 
what is already known." 



INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 






to analyze and classify and describe, but also to 
explain, to account for a particular group of facts, 
to tell why they are so and not otherwise, to ascer- 
tain the conditions or circumstances which made 
them what they are, to relate them to other facts, 
to insert them into a system, as was indicated above. 
3. The Science of Ethics. — Among the sciences 
referred to is one called ethics, which we are going 
to study in this book. It will be our business, 
first of all, to s|)ecify the facts or phenomena, the 
subject-matter, with which this branch of knowl- 
edge concerns itself. And here, perhaps, the differ- 
ent names that have been used at various times to 
designate our science may help us to understand 
its boundaries. The ancient Greeks employed the 
terms, ra tjOlkol (ta ethica), tjOl/ct} eTnarrjfxr) (ethice 
episteme), ethics, ethical science. 1 The word -qOiicos 
is derived from the word 97^0? (ethos), character, dis- 
position, which is connected with e#o? (ethos*), custom 
or habit. The Latin equivalent for the name ethics 
is philosophia moralis, 2 from which comes the English 

1 Though Aristotle (died 323 b.c.) was perhaps the first to em- 
ploy the term ethics in a strictly technical sense, the name was 
used by Xenocrates (313 b.c), and perhaps also by the Cyrenaics. 
See Sextus Empiricus, Ad. Mathematicos, VII, 16. See also 
Runze, Ethilc, p. 1 ; Wundt, Ethics, Fart I, chap. i. 

2 See Wundt, Ethics, English translation, p. 26: "The term 
moralis, which gave rise to the expression philosophia moralis, 
was a direct translation from Aristotle. Cicero remarks expressly, 
in the passage where he introduces the word, that he has formed it 
on the analogy of the Greek ethicos (^^i/c6s), 'in order to enrich 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 5 

appellation, moral philosophy or moral science. 1 The 
term practical philosophy is also used as a synonym 
of ethics, or as a more comprehensive generic term 
including both ethics and politics ; 2 practical because 
it investigates practice or conduct. 3 

The subject-matter of ethics is morality, the phe- 
nomenon of right" and wrong. It is a fact that men 
call certain characters and actions moral and im- 
moral, right and wrong, good and bad, that they 
approve of them and disapprove of them, express 
moral judgments upon them, evaluate them. They 
feel morally bound to do certain tilings or to leave 
them undone, they recognize the authority of cer- 
tain rules or laws, and acknowledge their binding 

1 Compare the titles of the works of Paley, Stewart, Reid, Cal- 
derwood, Porter, Bain, Bentham, Whewell, Price, Hume, and 
others. 

2 Compare Lotze, Practische Philosophie ; Hodgson, Tlieory of 
Practice. 

3 The term ethics is the preferable one, as it is freest from 
ambiguity. The name moral philosophy, or moral science, was 
formerly used in the sense of mental science to distinguish the 
study of mental phenomena from that of physical phenomena, or 
natural philosophy. The term practical philosophy is also mislead- 
ing. The science which studies the principles of conduct or prac- 
tice is just as theoretical as physics, physiology, or chemistry. 
Ethics is, like all sciences, both speculative and practical, both a 
science and an art. It is speculative, or theoretical, in so far as it 
analyzes, classifies, and explains its phenomena, or searches after 
their principles or laws, practical in so far as it applies these princi- 
ples or laws, or puts them into practice. Physiology and chemistry 
are theories, medicine is practice, or the application of the laws 
or truths discovered by biology, chemistry, and physics. It is 
confusing to call ethics practical philosophy simply because it 
deals with practice. See § 12 of this chapter. 



6 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

force. They say: This ought to be done, this ought 
not to be done ; thou shalt, and thou shalt not. In 
short, we seem to approach the world with a certain 
moral form or category, to impress it with a certain 
moral stamp ; we look at it through moral spectacles, 
as it were. 

Now this fact is as capable and as worthy of in- 
vestigation as any other fact in the universe, and we 
need a science that will subject it to careful analysis. 
Three problems here present themselves for our 
consideration. (1) What differentiates the subject- 
matter of ethics from that of other fields of knowl- 
edge? What is there in an ethical phenomenon 
that allows us to refer it to a special class ? In what 
does it differ from a fact of physics or aesthetics? 
(2) How shall we explain the fact that men judge 
ethically, that they pronounce judgment as they do? 
What do we mean when we say that an act is right 
or wrong ; what is taking place in our consciousness 
under these circumstances ? Is there anything in 
man that makes him judge as he judges, and what 
is it? Why does man evaluate as he does? Is it 
because certain moral truths are written on his heart, 
because he possesses an innate faculty of knowledge, 
a conscience, a universal, original, immutable power 
of the soul that enables him immediately to discrim- 
inate the right from the wrong? Or do we grad- 
ually learn to make moral distinctions ; is the ability 
to judge morally which we now possess an acquired 
one, a product of evolution, and as such capable 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 7 

of further development? (3) What is the nature 
of acts which are designated as right and wrong ? 
Why are they right and wrong ? Is there anything 
in them, any quality or attribute, that makes them 
right and wrong, or that makes men call them so ? 
If so, what is it? 

All these are questions for the moralist to decide. 
He must calmly, carefully, and impartially investi- 
gate the facts, and, if possible, explain them ; he 
must search after the principles or laws under- 
lying them, if there be any ; he must unify them, 
if that can be done. He must analyze and explain 
both character and conduct, the inside and outside of 
action, the mental factor, conscience, or moral judg- 
ment, and the physical factor, the act which it 
judges. He must tell us what they are, and why 
they are so ; he must account for them, show us 
their raison d'etre, indicate to us the place which 
they occupy in the system of things. 

4. The Data of Ethics. — We have stated in a 
general way what is the subject-matter with which 
our science deals, and how it is to be treated. Let 
us now attempt to show what differentiates ethical 
facts from other facts. Let us imagine that a 
person has killed a fellow-creature with malice 
aforethought. We call the deed murder, we pro- 
nounce moral judgment upon it ; we say, It is wrong, 
wicked, reprehensible. The same act, however, may 
be looked at from the physical or physiological point 
of view. The energy stored up in the brain cells of 



8 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

the murderer was liberated by certain currents com- 
ing from the periphery, and discharged into efferent 
nerves connected with certain muscles, which pro- 
duced the movement of the arm and hand holding the 
weapon of destruction. And the blow on the victim's 
skull so injured his brain and the vital functions de- 
pendent upon the nervous system as to cause death. 
The prosecuting attorney, ignoring the physiological 
and even moral factors involved, may look at the act 
purely from the legal standpoint. To kill a person 
with malice aforethought is a crime prohibited by law 
and punishable by death. The psychologist may try 
to explain the psychology of the entire affair. Certain 
motives were aroused in the mind of the murderer 
by the behavior of his future victim. These motives 
became more and more intense, and the inhibitions 
weaker and weaker, until a resolution was finally 
formed which led to the act. 

We see, one and the same circumstance may be 
examined from different points of view ; each indi- 
vidual thinker may select particular elements in it 
for study, and ignore the others. The physicist 
looks at the rainbow and tries to understand its 
physical conditions. I may contemplate it and call 
it beautiful, and then ask myself what makes it 
beautiful ; why is it that the contemplation of such 
a phenomenon arouses a peculiar aesthetic feeling in 
me ? The science of aesthetics is appealed to for 
an answer to this question. In ethics we do not 
care for the physical or physiological causes which 






THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 9 

have produced the acts, motives, and characters with 
which we are concerned ; all these have interest for 
us only because, and in so far as, we stamp them 
with a certain value, only because they bear a certain 
relation to the human soul, only because they pro- 
voke peculiar ethical feelings and judgments in us. 
Acts which are capable of exciting such judgments 
fall within the province of the science of ethics. 
There could be no science of ethics if no one ever 
approved and disapproved of things, if no one ever 
called things right and wrong. If the contemplation 
of certain acts. and motives did not arouse in us 
ethical feelings and judgments, there could be no 
science of ethics because there would be no facts 
for ethics to study. We might perhaps be perfect 
physicists, physiologists, astronomers, and even phi- 
losophers, but we should never pronounce moral 
judgment upon an act. That we 'place a value upon 
things, that ive call them right or good, wrong or 
bad, is the important fact in ethics, is ivhat makes 
a science of ethics possible. 1 

5. The Subject-matter of Ethical Judgment. — We 
said before that moral judgment was pronounced upon 
acts, but, we must add, not upon all acts. We do 
not feel like judging unless the act is the product 
of some conscious being like ourself. We do not 
call an earthquake or a cyclone right or wrong ; as 
Martineau says, "we neither applaud the gold-mine 

1 See Hoffding, Ethik, III, and his Ethische Principienlehre ; 
Miinsterberg, Der Ursprung der Sittlichkeit, pp. 10 ff„ 



10 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

nor blame the destructive storm." 1 The child and 
the savage may applaud and condemn such occur- 
rences and inanimate objects, but this is most likely 
because they regard them as endowed with soul, or 
because they have heard others do so. Generally 
speaking, we nowadays limit our judgments to the 
actions of conscious human beings. We expect 
the act to have a mental or psychical background. 
When the act is the expression of a conscious human 
being, we feel like judging it morally. But when 
we are told that the agent did not control it, that it 
occurred without his willing it, or that he was not 
capable of reasoning and feeling, and willing in a 
healthy manner at the time of its performance, then 
we withhold our judgment. We do not praise or 
blame the movements made in an epileptic fit, or 
hypnotic trance, or in sleep, or reflex actions over 
which the person has no power. Nor do we con- 
demn or approve of the acts of a lunatic. But in 
case any of the acts under consideration are the 
necessary consequents of some previous conduct of 
the doer, which, we believe, he might have avoided, 
we pronounce judgment upon them, or at any rate 
upon him. Wherever we are convinced that the acts 
were purely mechanical, that is, physically deter- 
mined, and not accompanied by consciousness, we 
do not judge them morally. But whenever con- 
sciousness is present in the performance of the act, 
we are tempted to judge. 

1 Types of Ethical Theory, Vol. II, p. 20. 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 11 

Let us therefore say that the subject-matter of 
ethical judgment is human conduct, that is, con- 
sciously purposive action. 1 We must not forget, 
however, that this was not always the case, and is 
not even now, perhaps, universally true. But it 
makes no difference to us here upon what the mind 
pronounces its judgments. The important thing for 
ethics is that such judgments are pronounced at all, 
and it is the business of the science to examine every 
fact or act which is judged ethically, or is capable 
of being so judged. 

6. Definition of Ethics. — Ethics may now be 
roughly defined as the science of right and wrong, 
the science of duty, the science of moral princi- 
ples, the science of moral judgment and conduct. It 
analyzes, classifies, describes, and explains moral phe- 
nomena, on their subjective as well as on their objective 
side. It tells us what these phenomena are, separates 
them into their constituent elements, and refers them 
to their antecedents or conditions ; it discovers the 
principles upon which they are based, the laws which 
govern them ; it explains their origin and traces their 
development. In short, it reflects upon them, thinks 
them over, attempts to answer all possible questions 
which may be asked with reference to them. It 
does with its facts what every science does with its 
subject-matter : it strives to know everything that 

1 See Setli, A Study of Ethical Principles, chap, i ; Spencer, 
Data of Ethics, chap i ; Muirhead, A Manual of Ethics, pp. 15-17 ; 
Martineau, op. cit., Vol. II, chap. i. 



12 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

can be known about them, to correlate them, to 
unify them, to insert them into a system. 

7. The Interrelation of Sciences. — When we say, 
however, as we did before, that there are separate 
sciences, we do not wish to be understood as mean- 
ing that these sciences are absolutely distinct from 
each other, that their respective facts are to be 
studied apart from all other phenomena in the 
world. This is not the case. The world presents 
itself to us as one, as a unity, a concrete whole. 
The mind splits it up into parts, but these parts are 
by no means really separate, independent entities. 
No phenomenon can be thoroughly understood in iso- 
lation, apart from all other phenomena. Strictly 
speaking, we cannot know one fact without know- 
ing them all. " To know one thing thoroughly," 
as Professor James says, " would be to know the 
whole universe. Mediately or immediately, that 
one thing is related to everything else ; and to 
know all about it, all its relations need be known." 1 
Tennyson expresses the same idea poetically in the 
oft-quoted lines : — 

"Little flower — but if I could understand 
What you are, root and all, and all in all, 
I should know what God and man is." 

1 See Leibniz, Monadology, § 61: "Everybody is affected by 
everything that happens in the world, so that a man seeing every- 
thing would know from each particular object everything that takes 
place everywhere, as well as what has taken place and will take 
place ; he perceives in the present that which is remote in time and 
space. 1 ' Cf. Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy, translated by 
Frank Thilly, pp. 145 ff . 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 13 

And as the world is one, science is one. Sciences 
depend upon each other, are subservient to each 
other. Thus the facts of psychology are in some 
way related to the facts of physiology and physics ; 
we cannot study the phenomenon of sensation with- 
out referring to the functions of the nervous sys- 
tem and the properties of matter. 

8. Ethics and Psychology. — Inasmuch as the facts 
of ethics are not isolated and independent, but are 
connected with the rest of the world, it is natural 
that the science of ethics should stand in some 
relation to the other sciences. If ethics is con- 
cerned with human beings, it will necessarily have 
something to do with the science of human nature. 
If ethics has to examine the conduct of man, and 
if conduct is not merely physical movement, but the 
outward expression, or sign, or aspect, of states of 
consciousness, and if the important thing in ethics 
is the fact that human beings judge of things in 
a certain way, then, of course, ethics is bound to 
depend, in a large measure, upon psychology. Psy- 
chology analyzes, classifies, and explains states of 
consciousness. Although all such states are of in- 
terest to the moralist, some of them require especial 
attention from him. The so-called ethical senti- 
ments, the feeling of obligation, etc., are mental 
phenomena, and as such must be analyzed and ex- 
plained by him ; and they cannot be treated apart 
from the rest of consciousness. Thus, when the 
ethicist analyzes and describes the conscience, he 



14 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

is doing the work of the psychologist. And when 
he studies the moral nature of the infant and the 
primitive man, as he sometimes does, with a view to 
tracing the development of the conscience, he is 
still within the field of psychology. He may like- 
wise consider animal states of consciousness, and 
search for the beginnings of conscience there, as 
Darwin did, in which case he is pursuing a psycho- 
logical investigation. 

Indeed, we may say that in so far as ethics deals 
with moral states of consciousness, it is simply a spe- 
cial branch of psychology. 1 But our science does not 
only look at the subjective side of conduct, it inves- 
tigates the objective side also, and the relation which 
this bears to the subjective. What, it asks, is the 
nature of the acts which are judged moral; do they 
possess some mark or characteristic that makes them 
moral or leads men to call them so? Why do men 
judge as they do ; what is the ground of moral dis- 
tinctions ? Why is wrong wrong, and right right ? 
Explain the virtues and duties, e.g., benevolence, 
charity, justice, veracity, etc., and their opposites. 
Is there a standard or criterion or ideal by which 
conduct is judged, and what is it ? Can we justify 
this standard or ideal, or is it something that cannot 
or need not be justified ? Given a certain ideal or 

1 See, for example, Ladd's treatment of the ethical sentiments in 
his Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, and Sully's account 
of the ethical or moral sentiments in the second volume of his 
Human Mind, or, in fact, any modern work on psychology. 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 15 

standard, what conduct is moral, what immoral ? 
Does humanity remain true to the ideal ? What is 
the highest good for man, the end of life ? Can we 
specify it scientifically, or is it impossible to do so? 

Such are some of the questions which our science 
asks and seeks to answer. Should it be said that 
these also are problems for psychology to solve, we 
should raise no serious objection. The important 
thing is that the phenomena in question be examined 
and explained ; whether by psychology or a special 
science does not matter. Ethical facts are, to a 
great extent, mental processes, and as such objects 
of psychological study. But the same may truth- 
fully be said of the data of aesthetics. A science 
must thoroughly explain its facts, and, strictly 
speaking, psychology would have to explain ethical 
and sesthetical facts. But sciences divide their 
labor, and it is in keeping with the practices of 
modern scientific research that psychology should 
hand over to a special discipline the consideration of 
a particular set of its facts. 

Besides, there are certain questions, as we have 
just seen, which are not usually considered by the 
psychologist. The psychologist studies states of con- 
sciousness as such ; he regards his work as completed 
when he has analyzed psychical phenomena and has 
referred them to their necessary psychical, or, if he 
be physiologically inclined, psychophysical antece- 
dents. He does not, as a rule, inquire into the 
principles underlying conduct; he does not concern 



16 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

himself with the question, What is the end of life, 
or what is the standard or criterion by which acts 
are measured ? But he could do so and still remain 
within the confines of his proper field of study. 
Such an investigation would surely assist him in 
better understanding the workings of the human 
mind, just as a knowledge of physics and chemistry 
would enable the physiologist better to understand 
the subject-matter of his science. 1 

9. Ethics and Politics. — The relation which eth- 
ics bears to the science of politics largely depends 
upon our conception of the nature and function of 
these two sciences. If we assume with Plato that 
ethics is the science of the highest good, and that 
the object of the State is to realize that end, then 
politics depends upon ethics, for we cannot tell what 
the State ought to do until we know what the high- 
est good is. But if the State is the highest good, 
then conduct has value only in so far as it subserves 
the interests of the State, and ethics is simply a 
branch of, or another name for, politics, as Aristotle 
declares. 

But let us say, ethics is the science of right and 
wrong ; it discovers the principles of conduct, shows 
the ground of moral distinctions. Politics has to do 



1 With the view advanced above Miinsterberg, Der Ursprung 
der Sittlichkeit, and Simmel, Einleitung in die Moralwissenschaft, 
agree. See also Sully, The Human Mind, Appendix L. Mackenzie, 
A Manual of Ethics, especially Appendix B, opposes the concep- 
tion. 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 17 

with the nature, origin, and development of the 
State ; it studies the different forms in which the 
State appears and has appeared, and strives to define 
the functions which it performs. It deals, let us 
say, with the principles of organized society. Now 
if ethics should discover that morality realizes a cer- 
tain end or aim, and that the fact that it realizes 
such an end explains its existence, and if politics 
should find that the State realizes the same end, then 
there would evidently be a close connection between 
the two. Should we be fortunate enough to dis- 
cover a principle or standard of morals, we should 
be able to say, in a general way, how a man ought 
to act in order to realize the ideal ; we should be 
able to construct a moral code. And should we be 
able to specify the end or ideal aimed at by the 
State, we could compare the two ends or purposes. 
Should they be the same, then politics might be 
called a branch of ethics or vice versa. Ethics would 
lay down the general rules of conduct ; it would tell 
us how to act as individuals. Politics would tell 
the State how to act ; it would be a guide to the 
conduct of man in organized society. 1 

10. Ethics and Metaphysics. — A science, as we 
have seen, analyzes, classifies, and explains a particu- 
lar set of phenomena. Strictly speaking, no fact is 
explained until we know all about it, until we un- 
derstand its relation to the entire universe. To 

1 See Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics, Bk. I, chap, ii ; Mackenzie, 
§ 6 ; Muirhead, Elements of Ethics, pp. 34 ££. 
c 



18 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

know one thing well means to know everything, as 
we have already pointed ont. 1 An ideal science 
wonld therefore be able to account for every single 
fact within its domain and coordinate it with the 
rest of reality. As a matter of fact, however, this 
ideal is not realized. The different sciences do not 
even aim at so high a goal. They do not go very far 
in their search for the causes of things, nor do they 
attempt to understand the world as a whole. When 
a science has referred an event to an antecedent, 
and this perhaps to another antecedent or group of 
antecedents, it is apt to regard its work as done. 
The physicist as such, for example, studies the prop- 
erties of matter, the laws of motion. He does not 
concern himself with the question regarding the 
ultimate nature and origin of these data, nor does he 
seek to correlate them with other forms of reality, 
say with the phenomena of mind. Nay, the tempta- 
tion is strong to regard his facts as the ultimate and 
most important facts, and to subordinate all others 
to them. The biologist studies the different forms 
of living matter which occur upon our earth ; he 
investigates the structure and function of organisms 
and compares them with each other. It is true that 
the tendency toward unification is stronger in bi- 
ology than in many other sciences, and that attempts 
have been made to derive the more complex forms 
of life from simple beginnings ; but in so far as this 
is the case, biology more nearly realizes the ideal 
1 See § 7 of this chapter. 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 19 

of science than the other sciences. Still, there are 
final problems which the biologist as such does not 
undertake to solve. The psychologist, again, ana- 
lyzes and explains states of consciousness ; he splits 
up the mind into its elements and refers them to 
their physical and psychical antecedents. But the 
questions, What is the ultimate nature and origin 
of consciousness or soul ? How is such a thing as mind 
possible at all? Whence comes it and whither does it 
go? What is its relation to matter and motion ? are 
left unanswered. 1 

Every science, then, confines itself to a particular 
group of phenomena and seeks to explain these in 
terms of each other. 2 But certain ultimate ques- 
tions suggest themselves, which, though hard to an- 
swer, cannot be brushed aside. These questions are 
handed over to philosophy or metaphysics for settle- 
ment. Philosophy simply means, as James puts it, 
"an unusually obstinate attempt to think clearly 
and consistently." To philosophize means to go to 
the very bottom of things, to think a problem out to 
the bitter end, to account for everything, to under- 
stand everything. In strictness, every science 
should be philosophical, it should not stop until all 
questions have been answered. And as a matter of 
fact, there are philosophical scientists in every 

1 It cannot be denied, of course, that every science makes cer- 
tain metaphysical assumptions, that it practically starts out with 
the metaphysics of common sense. 

2 In so far as it does this, we might call it empirical, as distin- 
guished from rational or metaphysical. 



20 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

sphere of science, men who like Wilhelm von 
Humboldt, Darwin, Huxley, and Helmholtz, cross 
the narrow confines of the particular fields in which 
they happen to be working, and look at the universe 
as a whole. 

Now the remarks which apply to the other sci- 
ences likewise apply to ethics. Ethics investigates 
a particular branch of facts and has to explain them. 
An ideal science of ethics will not stop until it 
thoroughly understands the phenomena with which 
it deals, and this, as we have seen, is not possible 
without universal knowledge. To realize its ideal, 
ethics must become philosophical, must be philos- 
ophy. In this respect, however, we repeat, it in no 
wise differs from the other sciences. 

We shall not, however, in this book, attempt to do 
more than the average science does with its subject- 
matter. We shall be satisfied if we succeed in find- 
ing the general principles underlying morality. 
We must leave it to the philosophers to solve the 
ultimate problems of ethics and to insert the facts of 
morality into the universal system of things. 1 

11. The Methods of Ethics. — Let us next con- 
sider the methods of ethics. The method to be 
pursued by our science does not, generally speak- 
ing, differ from that followed by other sciences. 
We must examine moral phenomena with the same 

1 For the relation of philosophy to the sciences, see Paulsen, 
Introduction to Philosophy, pp. 15 ff. ; Kiilpe, Introduction to 
Philosophy ; Munsterberg, Der Urspruny der iSittlichkeit, 1 ff. 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OE ETHICS 21 

care practised in other fields of research. We 
must observe and collect moral facts wherever we 
can. We must investigate the modes of conduct 
of different races, nations, classes, individuals, and 
periods of time. We must watch the behavior of 
the civilized and uncivilized, adults and children, 
men and women ; we must go as far back to the 
beginnings of history as we can ; we must study 
the mythology, theology, philosophy, literature, and 
art of the different peoples, in order to discover 
what they considered right and wrong ; we must 
look at their language, "the fossilized spiritual life 
of mankind," at their systems of law, at their polit- 
ical, social, and economic conditions, which are to 
a large extent an embodiment of their morality. 
What a wealth of moral facts we find in the works 
of Homer, Hesiod, and the Greek tragedians, in 
Shakespeare, Byron, and Goethe ! What an insight 
we gain into the moral feelings of the Middle Ages 
from the contemplation of their great works of art ; 
and how much the social conditions of our own 
times tell us of the moral ideals of the age ! 

Facts, then, must be gathered in our science, both 
external and internal facts. We must look out- 
ward and inward. But we must also study and 
seek to interpret these facts ; we must reflect and 
speculate upon them. No science can live without 
speculation. You may gather facts by the thou- 
sands and be no better off than before ; they are 
merely the raw material upon which you must work, 



22 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

which you must form into a system. We must pass 
from facts to principles. The mere observance of 
facts will lead to nothing. Only a highly synthetic, 
only an imaginative mind, one that can peer through 
the outward shell into the very heart of nature, is 
capable of advancing science. 

12. Theoretical Ethics and Practical Ethics. — We 
may distinguish between theoretical ethics and prac- 
tical ethics. A science or theory, as has been said, 
teaches us to know, and an art to do. 1 In studying 
a subject theoretically or scientifically in this sense, 
we seek to discover the principles or laws governing 
our phenomena. Anatomy and physiology are the- 
ories in so far as they examine the general structure 
and functions of organisms. After we have found 
the principles or laws, we apply them, we put them 
into practice, we lay down certain rules which must 
be obeyed in order that we may reach certain ends. 
The science or theory of physiology teaches us how 
the body functions, what causes it to function in 
this way, what are the conditions essential to its 
functioning so. The art or practice of hygiene 
frames rules based upon these principles, the observ- 
ance of which is essential to health. The science 
of psychology tells us what are the conditions or 
causes of certain mental phenomena ; pedagogy 
applies the truths discovered by the psychologist in 
practice. Every art bases itself upon a theory ; and 
the more developed the art the more developed, as 
1 See Sully, Teacher'' s Handbook of Psychology, chap. i. 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 23 

a rule, the theory upon which it rests. And the 
final end or purpose of every science or theory is to 
be of some practical use. 1 

Now there is also a science or theory of ethics and 
an art of ethics. The science discovers the princi- 
ples, the art applies them. The science teaches us 
what is done, the art what ought to be done. Practi- 
cal ethics is the application of theoretical ethics. 2 

13. The Value of Ethics, — In conclusion, let us 
consider the value of ethics for the student. Why 
should we study ethics? Well, why study any- 
thing ? Morality is a fact, and as such deserves to 
be studied. Man is a reflective being, and, there- 
fore, bound to take cognizance of everything in the 
universe. His own conduct is surely important and 
interesting enough to merit the attention which is 
given to the study of physical occurrences. Man 



1 See Drobisch, Logik, p. 165. 

2 For views similar to the above, see the references to Miinster- 
berg, Simmel, Paulsen, and Stephen, mentioned at the beginning 
of this chapter. See also Ziegler, Sittliches Sein unci sittliches 
Werden. Many writers, following Wundt (Ethik, Part I, Intro- 
duction), compare ethics to logic, and call it a normative science 
(Normwissenschaft). According to them, logic gives us the laws of 
correct thinking, the norms or rules which must be observed in order 
to reach truth. It also measures our thinking by these rules or 
norms, and judges its value accordingly. Ethics tells us how 
we ought to act in order to act ethically, or morally ; it lays down 
norms, or rules of conduct, which the agent must obey in order to 
insure the morality of his conduct. See Hyslop, Muirhead, Mac- 
kenzie. In this sense, however, it seems to me, every science 
that can be applied in practice is normative. — Cf . Spencer, Social 
Statics, p. 458. 



24 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

has conquered the forces of nature because he has 
thought about them, because he has subjected them 
to critical analysis. It is to be supposed that the 
examination of moral forces will be equally fruitful. 
The discovery of an ethical criterion will surely 
assist us in answering troublesome ethical questions. 
We do not always know what is right and what is 
wrong ; we must reflect upon our conduct, we need 
a standard or ideal with which to measure it. There 
can be no great progress in morals without reflection. 
Men are often ignorant of the right ; they have to 
reason it out, they need a firm foundation on which 
to base it. Or they often become sceptical with 
regard to morals ; they observe a great divergence 
in modes of conduct, and are apt to regard morality 
as a collection of arbitrary rules having no real bind- 
ing force. A closer study of the moral world will 
easily show the falseness of this view, and establish 
ethical truths upon a solid basis. 

I do not, of course, wish to be understood as 
claiming that morality is impossible without reflec- 
tion upon morality, or a science of ethics. This 
would be like saying that there can be no seeing 
without a science of vision. Before there can be a 
science of optics men must possess the power of 
sight ; before there can be a science of ethics men 
must act. But just as the science of optics greatly 
assists us in our attempts to see things, so the 
science of ethics is an aid to action. 

It is held by some, however, that reflection upon 



THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 25 

moral matters is apt to weaken a person's power of 
action, and that a study of ethics is, therefore, 
dangerous to morality. Even if this were so, it 
could not hinder men from theorizing on the prin- 
ciples of conduct. But the view is false. A careful 
and thorough examination of the field of morals will, 
it seems to me, inspire us with a greater respect for 
morality, and strengthen our impulses toward the 
good. Of course, hasty and superficial judgments 
upon ethical facts are, like all half-truths, dangerous. 
But the best way to combat them is to prove their 
falseness ; the best cure for a half-truth is always a 
whole truth. 



CHAPTER II 

THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE i 

1. Introduction. — We pronounce moral judgments 
upon ourselves as well as upon others ; we distin- 

1 For a history of ethical theories, see, besides the Histories of 
Philosophy : Kostlin, Die Ethik des classischen Altertums ; Lut- 
hardt, Die antike Ethik; Ziegler, Die Ethik der Griechen and 
Bomer ; Gass, Geschichte der christlichen Ethik ; Gass, D.ie Lehre 
vom Gewissen; Ziegler, Geschichte der christlichen Ethik; Lut- 
hardt, Geschichte der christlichen Ethik; Jodl, Geschichte der 
Ethik in der neueren Philosophic; Gizycki, Die Ethik David 
Hume's; Whewell, History of Moral Philosophy ; J. H. Fichte, 
System der Ethik; Vorlander, Geschichte der philosophischen 
Moral, Bechts- und Staatslehre ; Mackintosh, On the Progress 
of Ethical Philosophy during the Seventeenth and Eighteenth 
Centuries; Stephen, English Thought of the Eighteenth Century ; 
Guyau, La morale anglaise contemporaine ; Fouillee, Critique des 
systemes de morale contemporains ; Williams, A Beview of Evo- 
lutional Ethics; Sidgwick, Outline of a History of Ethics; Janet, 
Histoire de la philosophic morale et politique ; Paulsen, A System 
of Ethics, pp. 33-215 ; Wundt, Ethics, Vol. II ; J. Seth, A Study 
of Ethical Principles, pp. 77-249 ; Watson, Hedonistic Theories 
from Aristippus to Spencer; Hyslop, Elements of Ethics, pp. 
18-89; Martineau, Types of Ethical Theory; Calderwood, Hand- 
book of Moral Philosophy, 10th edition, pp. 318 ff. ; Eucken, 
Die Lebensanschauungen der grossen Denker. For a history 
of ethical conceptions, see also Schmidt, Die Ethik der alten Grie- 
chen; Lecky, History of European Morals, from Augustus to Char- 
lemagne ; Friedlander, Die Sittengeschirhte Boms; Keim, Bom 
und das Christentum. Sutherland's Origin and Growth of the 
Moral Instinct contains much valuable material. Consult also the 
bibliographies in my translation of Paulsen's Ethics. For bibliog- 

26 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 27 

guish between Tightness and wrongness in thoughts, 
feelings, volitions, acts, institutions, and so forth. 
We insist upon the performance of certain modes of 
conduct and the avoidance of others ; we command 
categorically, Thou shalt, and thou shalt not. We 
regard ourselves and our fellows as morally bound 
or obliged to do certain things, and to refrain from 
others. The breach of rules which we feel ought 
to be obeyed is condemned by us even when we 
ourselves are the offenders. 

Let us embrace all these facts under a general 
formula, and say that man pronounces moral judg- 
ments, or distinguishes between right and wrong; 
man has a moral consciousness or a conscience. The 
question naturally arises, How is this fact to be 
explained? We cannot solve this problem until 
we have carefully analyzed the phenomenon itself 
which provoked it. Before attempting that, how- 
ever, let us consider some answers which have already 
been made to the question. 

2. The Mythical View. — The naive thinker tries 
to account for things in a peculiar manner. He 
regards natural phenomena as the expression of 
hidden, mysterious forces. He collects a number 
of similar occurrences and conceives them as the 

raphyof the History of Philosophy, see my translation of Weber's 
History of Philosophy, notes in § 3. For special bibliographies 
see the notes on particular philosophers in Weber and Paulsen. 
The beginner will find the works of Paulsen, Seth, Wundt, Sidg- 
wick, and Hyslop most helpful to him in his study of the history of 
ethics and ethical conceptions. 



28 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

manifestation of some supernatural principle. Thus 
rain and thunder are produced by rain and thunder 
gods, disease by a god of disease. The same ten- 
dency impels him to explain the fact of moral 
consciousness by referring it to supernatural powers. 
He notices a conflict in himself between two ten- 
dencies, the one urging him in the direction of the 
good, the other in the direction of the evil. Behind 
each he places an entity, a principle, of which the 
different occurrences are the expressions. Con- 
science, he says, is the voice of God in the human 
soul; it is God directly speaking to us; it is some- 
thing distinct from the person, something from with- 
out that tells him which way to go. Greek mythology 
personifies the pangs of conscience in the form of the 
Erinyes or Furies, who pursue the evil-doer as long 
as he lives ; anc even Socrates speaks of the daemon 
within him who warns him against certain lines of 
conduct and urges him in the direction of the good. 1 
And just as the naive consciousness places an entity 
behind the inner tendency toward the right, so it 
makes an entity of the inner tendency toward the 
evil. The latter is called the principle of evil or 
the devil, who tempts man to do wrong. 

3. The Rationalistic Intuitionists. — The mytho- 
logical view, as we might call it, is superseded by 
the metaphysical view, which appears in many 
forms, often in combination with the preceding. 

1 See Schmidt, Ethik der Griechen ; Gass, Die Lehre vom Ge- 
wissen. See also Bender, Mythologie und Jfetaphysik. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 29 

Let us see how it answers our question. Why do 
we make moral distinctions? Because we have the 
power of making such judgments. Man possesses 
a natural faculty, a peculiar moral endowment, a 
conscience, which immediately enables him to dis- 
tinguish between right and wrong. Its deliverances 
are absolutely certain and necessary, as self-evident 
as the truth that twice two is four, as immediate 
and eternal as the axioms of geometry. You cannot 
and need not prove that twice two is four, you can- 
not and need not prove that stealing is wrong. It 
is as absurd to doubt the one fact as it is to doubt 
the other. And whence did man obtain this won- 
derful power, you ask? Well, it is an inborn fac- 
ulty, which God has given us. 

(1) Let us consider a few representatives of this 
view, 1 and note how it is modified '•a the course of 
time. And, first, let us turn to the early Christian 
thinkers. 2 u How," Chrysostom 3 asks the heathen, 4 
" did your lawgivers happen to give so many laws on 
murder, marriage, wills, etc. ? The later ones have 
perhaps been taught by their predecessors, but how 
did these learn of them ? How else than through con- 
science, the law which God originally implanted in hu- 
man nature ? " " There is in our souls," says Pelagius, 5 

1 In the following expositions I have tried, as far as possible, to 
state the different authors' views in their own language. 

2 See Gass, Die Lehre vom Gewissen. 

3 Died 407. 4 Adv. pop. Antioch., Homil. 12. 
6 A contemporary of St. Augustine. 



30 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

"a certain natural holiness, as it were, which pre- 
sides over the citadel of the mind, a judgment of 
good and evil." 1 Augustine 2 declares that there 
are " in the natural faculty of judgment certain rules 
and seeds of virtue, which are both true and incom- 
municable." 

But, it might be asked, if there is such an absolute 
faculty, if the dictates of this conscience or the 
moral truths engraven on the mind are so certain 
and universal, how comes it that so many mistakes 
are made, and so many differences exist in action? 
In obeying the so-called inner voice the individual 
may still fall into error. To escape this troublesome 
problem the Schoolmen modified the view just set 
forth in an ingenious way. I may pronounce judg- 
ment that a particular act is right or wrong. The 
faculty which enables me to do this is the conscience 
(conscientia, awelh-qcn^') . The judgment may be 
false, for the particular act which it pronounces to 
be right or wrong may be the opposite. But I have 
another faculty, the faculty which tells me in general 
that all wrong must be avoided, that evil must not 
be done. This faculty, called the synteresis or syn- 
deresis (avvhepecris}? cannot err, it is infallible, inex- 
tinguishable. It is the spark of reason or truth 
which burns even in the souls of the damned. 
When we come to apply this truth to particular 

1 Epist. ad Demetr., chap, iv, p. 25. 2 354-430. 

3 The spelling and derivation of the word are in dispute. See 
Archiv f. G. d. Ph., Vol. X, number 4. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 31 

cases and seek to discover what particular deeds 
should be avoided, we exercise the conscience and 
may err. To quote from Bonaventura : 1 " For God 
has endowed us with a twofold righteousness, one 
for judging correctly, and this is the righteousness 
of conscience, and one for willing correctly, and that 
is the righteousness of the synderesis, whose func- 
tion it is to warn against (remurmurare) the evil 
and to prompt to goodness." 2 Antoninus of Flor- 
ence 3 regards the synderesis as a natural habit 
or endowment, a natural light, which tends to keep 
man from doing wrong by warning him against 
sin and inclining him to the good. 4 It is a simple 
principle, dealing with general laws, sinless and in- 
extinguishable, while the conscience is a faculty or 
an activity which concerns itself with the particular 
and is, therefore, subject to error and illusion. 
" The human mind makes a certain syllogism, as it 
were, for which the synderesis furnishes the major 
premise : All evil is to be avoided. But a superior 
reason assumes the minor premise of this syllogism, 
saying, Adultery is an evil because it is prohibited 
by God, while an inferior reason says, Adultery is 

1 1221-1274. Breviloqmum, Part II, chap. ii. 

2 Duplicem enim indidit (Deus) rectitudinein ipsi naturse, vide- 
licet unam ad recte jndicandum, et hsec est rectitude* conscientiae ; 
aliam, ad recte volendum, et h?ec est rectitude- synderesis, cujus 
est remurmurare contra malum et stimulare ad bonum. 

3 1389-1459. 

4 Synderesis est quidam connaturalis habitus sive connaturale 
lumen, cujus actus vel officium est, hominem retrahere a malo 
murmurando contra peccatum et inclinare ad bonum. 



32 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

an evil because it is unjust, or because it is dis- 
honest. But conscience draws the conclusion from 
the above premises : Therefore adultery is to be 
avoided." 1 

(2) We find similar views expressed by modern 
thinkers. Ralph Cudworth 2 regards knowledge as 
the product of an independent activity of the soul, 
or reason. " The intellection consists in the appli- 
cation of a given pattern thought, a ready-made 
category, to the phenomena and objects presented 
by experience. These categories or notions are 
a priori; they are the constant reflections of the 
Universal Reason, of God's mind." But they are 
not merely objects and products of the intellect, 
they form the nature or essence of things. All men 
have the same fundamental ideas. What is clearly 
and distinctly perceived is true. Among the truths 
which reason reveals to us are moral truths, which, 
like mathematical propositions, are absolute and 
eternal. But the soul is not a mere passive and 
receptive thing which has no innate active principles 
of its own. Good and evil, intuitive intellectual 

1 Fit in animo vel in mente hominis quasi quidam syllogismus, 
cujus majorem prsernittit synderesis dicens, omne malum esse 
vitandum. Minorem vero hujus syllogismi assumit ratio superior, 
dicens adulterium esse malum, quia prohibitum est a Deo, ratio 
vero inferior dicit, adulterium esse malum, quia vel est injustum 
vel quia est inhonestum. Conscientia vero infert conclusionem 
dicens et concludens ex supradictis, ergo adulterium est vitandum. 

2 1617-1688. The title of Cudworth's book is characteristic 
of his standpoint : Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable 
Morality. — Selections in Selby-Bigge's British Moralists, Vol. II. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 33 

categories, convey more than knowledge, and are 
attended by an authority pleading with the will to 
move in a determinate direction. Moreover, the 
truths of mathematics and morals are as binding on 
God as they are on us ; he must think and act like 
all rational beings. 1 

(3) Samuel Clarke 2 teaches that there are eternal 
and necessary differences and relations of things. 
The human differences are as obvious as the various 
sizes of physical objects, the fitness of actions and 
characters as obvious as the propositions of numbers 
and geometrical figures. Hence the moral truths, 
like the mathematical truths, belong to the sphere 
of eternal relations. The reason, divine and human, 
perceives these eternal differences and relations as 
they are. And just as no one can refuse assent to 
a correct mathematical proof, no one who under- 
stands the subject can refuse assent to moral propo- 
sitions. " So far as men are conscious of what is 
right and wrong, so far they are under obligation 
to act accordingly." 3 It is contrary to reason, con- 
trary to the eternal order of nature, to do wrong. 
Indeed, it is as absurd as to try to make darkness 
out of light, sweet out of bitter. To deny that I 
should do for another what he in the like case 

1 For Cudworth, see especially Martineau, Types, Vol. II, Bk. 
II; Jodl, Geschichte der Ethik ; Sidgwick, History of Ethics. 

2 1675-1729. Discourse concerning the Unalterable Obligations 
of Natural Beligion. — Selections from Clarke's ethical writings in 
Selby-Bigge's British Moralists, Vol. II. 

8 Op. cit., pp. 184 ff. 
p 



34 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

should do for me, and to deny it, " either in word or 
in action," "is as if a man should contend that, 
though two and three are equal to five, yet five 
are not equal to two and three." God himself 
necessarily conforms his will to the laws of morals ; 
his activity must be in accord with eternal right. 1 

(4) Henry Caldenvood 2 belongs to the same 
school. We have, he says, an intuitive knowledge of 
the right and wrong. This knowledge is immediate, 
and its source is within the mind itself. " By direct 
insight a law is visible to us which cannot be inferred, 
but which regulates all inferences in morals within 
the area to which the law applies. " The recognition of 
a general truth or principle of conduct is perception 
or intuition of the highest order. The power to 
recognize self-evident truth has been named Reason. 
Conscience, then, is that power by which moral law 
is immediately recognized, " it is reason discovering 
universal truth having the authority of sovereign 
moral law, and affording the basis for personal obli- 
gation." It is a cognitive or intellectual power, not 
a form of feeling, nor a combination of feelings ; 
and it is vested with sovereign practical authority. 
This authority is found in the character of the truth 
which conscience reveals, not in the nature of the 
faculty itself. " This faculty is a power of sight, 
making a perception of self-evident truth possible to 

1 See references under Cudworth ; also Stephen, op. cit., 
Vol. II. * 

2 1831-1897. Handbook of Moral Philosophy. 






THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 35 

man ; but it contributes nothing to the truth per- 
ceived. To this truth itself belongs inherent author- 
ity, by which is meant, absolute right to command, 
not force to constrain." 1 

But if conscience discovers moral law to us, how 
is it that there exists such diversity of moral judg- 
ments among men ? Calderwood maintains that 
there is a very general agreement as to the forms 
of rectitude, such as truthfulness, justice, benevo- 
lence. No nation places these virtues in the list 
of moral wrongs. But men •differ as to the applica- 
tion of these principles. 

Conscience cannot be educated. As well teach 
the eye to see, and the ear to hear, as to teach rea- 
son to perceive self-evident truth. But. conscience 
can be trained, in the application of the law, which 
can be known only through personal experience. 

The foregoing thinkers practically agree in the 
answers which they give to our question, Why 
do men make moral judgments ? Men judge as they 
do because they have an innate knowledge of mo- 
rality, a knowledge not derived from experience, but 
inherent in the very nature of human reason. Rea- 
son immediately reveals to us moral truths, certain 
universal propositions which are as necessary and 
absolute as the truths of mathematics. Conscience 
is an intuition of the reason (ratio). We may call 

1 Handbook, Part I, chaps, iii and iv. To the same school belong 
Price, Reid, Stewart, Janet, Porter, and others. 



36 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

the philosophers who adopt this view, rationalists or 
intellectualists, rationalistic intuitionists. 

4. The Emotional Intuitionists. — There are other 
philosophers who agree with the above that con- 
science is innate, but do not conceive it as a faculty 
of reason, as a faculty that pronounces universal 
and necessary judgments, like, Stealing is wrong, 
Benevolence is right. According to them we either 
feel or perceive that a particular act or motive is right 
or wrong when it is presented to us. We contemplate 
motives and acts, and pronounce judgment upon them 
when they are brought before consciousness, and we 
do this because we immediately and intuitively feel 
or perceive them to be right or wrong, not because we 
first compare them with an universal innate truth 
or proposition, delivered by the reason. — Let us 
consider the advocates of this view under two heads. 
Let us call those who regard conscience as a form 
oi feeling, as an emotional faculty, emotional intuition- 
ists ; and those who base it upon perception, percep- 
tional intuitionists. 1 

1 Neither Shaftesbury nor Hutcheson draws a sharp distinction 
between feeling and perception, both using the terms interchange- 
ably ; but they seem to me to incline toward the view that the 
moral sense is an emotional faculty. (See Martineau, Types, Vol. II, 
Bk. II, pp. 524 ff., where their meaning of the word sense is defined.) 
Hume is clearer in his statements on this point, and more out- 
spoken in his opposition to the rationalists. Butler and Marti- 
neau, on the other hand, regard conscience as a cognitive faculty, 
but not in the sense of the rationalists. With them it is a per- 
ception rather than a power of reason proclaiming general moral 
truths. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 37 

(1) According to Lord Shaftesbury, 1 man pos- 
sesses " self-affections which lead only to the good 
of the private," "natural, kind, or social affections," 
which lead to the public good, and " unnatural affec- 
tions " which lead neither to public nor private good. 
Virtue consists in eliminating the latter, and estab- 
lishing a proper harmony or balance between the 
others. But how can we tell whether these affec- 
tions are properly balanced or not ? By means of 
the moral sense, the sense of right and wrong, a 
natural possession of all rational creatures, which 
" no speculative opinion is capable immediately and 
directly to exclude or destroy." "In a creature 
capable of forming general notions of things," he 
says, "not only the outward beings which offer 
themselves to the sense are the objects of affection, 
but the very affections themselves ; and the affec- 
tions of pity, kindness, gratitude, and their con- 
traries, being brought before the mind by reflection, 
become objects, so that by means of this reflected 
sense there arises another kind of affection toward 
those very affections themselves which have been 
already felt, and are now become the subject of a 
new liking or dislike." 2 "No sooner are actions 
viewed, no sooner the human affections and passions 



1 1671-1713. "Inquiry concerning Virtue and Merit," con- 
tained in the second volume of the Characteristics. See especially 
Martineau ; Stephen ; Jodl ; Gizycki, Die Philosophic Shaftesbury' 1 s ; 
Fowler, Shaftesbury and Hutcheson. — Selections in Selby-Bigge, 
British Moralists, Vol. I. 2 Inquiry, Bk. I, Part II, Section III. 



38 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

discerned (and they are most of them discerned as 
soon as felt), than straight an imvard eye distin- 
guishes and sees the fair and shapely, the amiable, 
the admirable, the foul, the odious, or the despica- 
ble. How is it possible, then, not to own that as 
these distinctions have their foundation in nature, the 
discernment itself is natural and from nature alone ?"* 
(2) Francis Hutcheson 2 follows in the same path. 
He regards man as being moved by two kinds of 
affections : self-love and benevolence. In case a 
conflict arises between these two motive principles, 
an internal principle, intuitive and universal in man, 
the moral se?ise, appears and decides in favor of the 
latter. The moral sense has always " approved of 
every kind affection," has pronounced "morally 
good" all actions which flow from benevolent affec- 
tion, or intention of absolute good to others. What 
is the nature of this faculty ? It does not, like the 
conscience of the rationalists, evolve general propo- 
sitions out of itself, but perceives virtue and vice as 
the eye perceives light and darkness. 3 It is a " regu- 
lating and controlling function," "the faculty of per- 

1 TJie Moralists, Part III, Section III. As Jodl says: "The 
manner in which Shaftesbury speaks of this self-reflection upon which 
the moral judgment is said to depend, is somewhat indefinite and 
vacillating.' ' Still, he apparently means to point out that an emotional 
element enters into the process by which such judgments are formed. 
We may, therefore, call Shaftesbury an "emotional intuitionist." 

2 1694-1747. Inquiry into the Original of Our Ideas of Beauty 
and Virtue, etc. — Selections from Hutcheson's writings in Selby- 
Bigge, op. cit., Vol. I. 

8 Inquiry, Section I, § 8 ; System of Moral Philosophy, Bk I. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 39 

ceiving moral excellence." 1 " Some actions have to 
men an immediate goodness ; " "by a superior sense, 
which I call a moral one, we perceive pleasure in 
the contemplation of such actions in others, and are 
determined to love the agent (and much more do we 
perceive pleasure in being conscious of having done 
such actions ourselves) without any view of further 
natural advantage from them." 2 

(3) David Hume 3 agrees with Hutcheson. He 
discusses the question " whether 'tis by means of our 
ideas [reason] or impressions [feelings] we distin- 
guish between vice and virtue, and pronounce an action 
blamable or praiseworthy," 4 and finds that reason as 
such is wholly inactive and can never be the source of 
so active a principle as conscience, or a sense of morals. 
Vice and virtue are not discoverable merely by reason, 
or the comparison of ideas. Our decisions concern- 
ing moral rectitude and depravity are perceptions. 



tern, Bk. I. 

2 Inquiry, Introduction. See especially Martineau, Types, Vol. 
II, Bk. II. 

3 1711-1776. Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, etc. 
For bibliography see Weber, History of Philosophy, 417, note. 

4 Treatise on Morals, Bk. Ill, Part I, § 1 ; Inquiry, Section I : 
"There has been a controversy started of late concerning the 
general foundation of morals : whether they be derived from 
reason or from sentiment ; whether we attain the knowledge of 
them by a chain of argument and induction, or by an immediate 
feeling and finer internal sense ; whether, like all sound judgment 
of truth and falsehood, they should be the same to every rational, 
intelligent being ; or whether, like the perception of beauty and 
deformity, they be founded entirely on the particular fabric and 
constitution of the human species." — Selections by Hyslop. 



40 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

Morality is more properly felt, than judged of; 
though this feeling or sentiment is commonly so 
soft and gentle that we are apt to confound it with 
an idea. 1 "The final sentence, it is probable, which 
pronounces characters and actions amiable or odious, 
blamable or praiseworthy ; that which stamps on 
them the mark of honor or infamy, approbation or 
censure ; that which renders morality an active 
principle, and constitutes virtue our happiness, and 
vice our misery : it is probable, I say, that this final 
sentence depends on some internal sense or feeling, 
which nature has made universal in the whole 
species." 2 And what is the nature of the feeling 
by which we know good and evil? To have the 

1 Treatise on Morals, Bk. Ill, Part I, § 2. 

2 Inquiry, Section I. See also Appendix I: "Now, as virtue is 
an end, and is desirable on its own account, without fee or re- 
ward, merely for the immediate satisfaction which it conveys, it is 
requisite that there should be some sentiment which it touches ; 
some internal taste, or feeling, or whatever you choose to call it, 
which distinguishes moral good and evil, and which embraces the 
one and rejects the other. Thus the distinct boundaries and 
offices of reason and of taste are easily ascertained. The former 
conveys the knowledge of truth and falsehood, the latter gives 
the sentiment of beauty and deformity, vice and virtue. The one 
discovers objects as they really stand in nature, without addition 
or diminution, the other has a productive faculty, and, gilding or 
staining all natural objects with the colors borrowed from internal 
sentiment, raises, in a manner, a new creation. Reason, being 
cool and disengaged, is no motive to action, and directs only the 
impulse received from appetite or inclination, by showing us the 
means of attaining happiness or avoiding misery. Taste, as it 
gives pleasure or pain, and thereby constitutes happiness or mis- 
ery, becomes a motive to action, and is the first spring or impulse 
to desire and volition." 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 41 

sense of virtue is nothing but to feel a particular 
kind of satisfaction, a peculiar kind of pleasure. 1 

(4) To the same school belong also J. J. Rousseau, 2 
Kant 3 (before the critical period), Adam Smith, 4 
and J. F. Herbart. 5 F. Brentano has attempted to 
strengthen the theory in a peculiar manner. 6 There 
are, he holds, certain self-evident judgments, which 
carry their self-evidence in them, which it would be 
absurd to deny, like, Things equal to the same thing 
are equal to each other ; and certain instinctive or 
blind judgments, which may or may not be true, 
about which there can be dispute. Similarly, there 
are certain higher or self-evident feelings, feelings 
which are valid for all human beings, feelings about 
which there can be no dispute, and lower feel- 
ings, which lack this self-evident character, about 
which there can be dispute. Thus we love knowl- 
edge and truth, and dislike error and ignorance, and 
there can be no dispute about the value of this feel- 
ing. Should a different human species love error 
and hate truth, we should regard its loving and 
hating as fundamentally wrong. That a man should 
love knowledge and hate ignorance is self-evident ; 
that he should prefer champagne to Rhine-wine is 

1 See Treatise, loc. cit.. Section II ; also Part III. 

2 1712-1778. 

3 See his TJeber die Deutlichkeit der Grundsdtze der nat'iir- 
lichen Theologie und Moral, 1764. Cf. Forster, Der Entwick- 
lungsgang der Kantischen Ethik ; Jodl, Geschichte der Ethik. 

4 1723-1790. A Theory of Moral Sentiments. 5 1776-1841. 
G Born 1838. Vom Ursprung sittlicher Erkenntniss, 1889. 



42 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

not self-evident. In other words, we have an innate 
feeling of preference for the good. 1 

5. The Perceptional Intuitionists. — In this class 
belong Bishop Butler, James Martineau, and W. E. H. 
Lecky. With them conscience is intuitive, but neither 
a feeling, as the foregoing thinkers declare, nor the 
product of reason in the Cudworthian sense, but an 
inner perception. 

(1) According to Butler, 2 there is a superior 
principle of reflection or conscience in every man, 
which distinguishes between the internal principles 
of his heart as well as his external actions ; which 
passes judgment upon himself and them, and pro- 
nounces determinately some actions to be in them- 
selves evil, wrong, unjust ; which without being 
consulted, without being advised with, magisterially 
exerts itself, and approves or condemns him the doer 
of them accordingly. It is by this faculty, natural 
to man, that he is a moral agent, that he is a law 
to himself, but this faculty, not to be considered 
merely as a principle in his heart, which is to have 
some influence as well as others, but considered as 
a faculty in kind and in nature supreme over all 
others, and which bears its own authority of being 
so. You cannot form a notion of this faculty, con- 

1 Hermann Scliwarz, Grundz'uge der Ethik, is an emotional 
intuitionist of the Hutcheson stamp. We feel intuitively the worth 
of sympathy to be higher than that of selfishness. 

2 1692-1752. Sermons upon Human Nature. See also Disserta- 
tion upon Virtue. Works edited by Gladstone, 1897. Selections 
in Selby-Bigge, British Moralists, Vol. I. See Collins, Butler. 



THEORIES OE CONSCIENCE 43 

science, without taking in judgment, direction, 
superintenclency. This is a constituent part of the 
idea, that is, of the faculty itself, and to preside 
and govern, from the very economy and constitution 
of man, belongs to it. Had it strength, as it had 
right, had it power as it had manifest authority, it 
would absolutely govern the world. " What obli- 
gations are we under to attend to and follow it ? — 
Your obligation to obey this law is its being the law 
of your nature. That your conscience approves of 
and attests to such a course of action is itself alone 
an obligation. Conscience does not only offer itself 
to show us the way we should walk in, but it like- 
wise carries its own authority with it, that it is our 
natural guide, the guide assigned us by the author 
of our nature," etc. 1 u The whole moral law is as 
much matter of revealed command, as positive insti- 
tutions are, for the Scripture enjoins every moral 
virtue. In this respect, then, they are both upon a 
level. But the moral law is moreover written upon 
our hearts, interwoven into our very nature. And 
this is a plain intimation of the author of it, which 
is to be preferred when they interfere." 2 

(2) Martineau's 3 modification of the intuitional 
theory is unique. On the simple testimony of our 
perceptive faculty, he says, we believe in the per- 
ceived object and the perceiving self. " This dual 
conviction rests upon the axiom that we must ac- 

1 Sermon iii. 2 Analogy of Beligion, Part II, chap. i. 

3 1805-1900. Types of Ethical Theory. 



44 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

cept as veracious the immediate depositions of our 
faculties, and that the postulates, without which the 
mind cannot exert its activity at all, possess the high- 
est certainty." We ask no more than this on behalf 
of our ethical psychology. Let perception be dicta- 
tor among the objects of sense ; conscience, as to the 
conditions of duty. 1 

Now we have an irresistible tendency to approve 
and disapprove, to pass judgments of right and 
wrong. We judge persons, not things, and we 
judge always the inner spring of action. 2 Hence, 
we judge first ourselves, then others. We could 
not judge other men's actions if what they sig- 
nified were not already familiar to us by our own 
inner experience. But we cannot judge an inner 
spring of action if it is the only thing in conscious- 
ness. A plurality of inner principles is an indis- 
pensable condition of moral judgment. 3 There 
must be several impulses (incompatible impulses) 
present. Without them the moral consciousness 
would sleep. As soon as this condition is realized, 
"we are sensible of a contrast between them other 
than of mere intensity or of qualitative variety — 
not analogous to the difference between loud and 
soft, or between red and bitter, — but requiring 
quite a separate phraseology for its expression, such 
as this : that one is higher, worthier, than the other, 
and in comparison with it has the clear right to us. 

1 Types, Vol. II, Part II, Introduction. 

2 /6., pp. 18 ff. 8 lb., p. 37. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 45 

This apprehension is no mediate discovery of ours, 
of which we can give an account, but is immediately 
inherent in the very experience of the principles them- 
selves — a revelation inseparable from their appear- 
ance side by side." 1 It is unique and unanalyzable. 

"The whole ground of ethical procedure con- 
sists in this : that we are sensible of a graduated 
scale of excellence among our natural principles, quite 
distinct from the order of their intensity and irre- 
spective of the range of their external effects." The 
sensibility of the mind to the gradations of the scale 
is conscience, the knowledge ivith oneself of the bet- 
ter and the worse. 2 It is the critical perception we 
have of the relative authority of our own several 
principles of action. All moral discrimination has 
its native seat in conscience ; we first feel differences 
in our own springs of action, and then apply this 
knowledge to the corresponding ones betrayed in 
others by their conduct. 

But how comes it that men are not unanimous 
in their apparent moral judgments ? This is easy to 
understand. " The whole scale of inner principles is 
open only to the survey of the ripest mind, and to 
be perfect in its appreciation is to have exhausted 
the permutations of human exjDerience. To all 
actual men, a part only is familiar, often a deplor- 
ably small part. Still, however limited the range of 
our moral consciousness, it would lead us all to the 

1 Types, Vol. II, Part II, p. 44. 

2 lb., p. 53. See also p. 266, where Martineau gives a table of 
the springs of action in the ascending order of worth. 



46 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

same verdicts had we all the same segment of the 
series under cognizance." 1 

Conscience speaks with authority. This author- 
ity is a simple feeling, admitting of little analysis or 
explanation. 2 But it is not simply subjective, not 
of my own making, not a mere self-assertion of my 
own will. How can that be a mere self-assertion of 
my own will, to which my own will is the first to 
bend in homage ? " The authority which reveals itself 
within us reports itself, not only as underived from 
our will, but as independent of our idiosyncrasies 
altogether." 3 If the sense of authority means any- 
thing, it means the discernment of something higher 
than we, no mere part of ourself, but transcending 
our personality. It is more than part and parcel of 
myself, " it is the communion of God's life and guid- 
ing love entering and abiding with an apprehensive 
capacity in myself. 4 Here we encounter an objec- 
tive authorit}^ without quitting our own centre of 
consciousness." A man is a " law unto himself," not 
by " autonomy of the individual " (as Green would 
say), but by " self -communication of the infinite spirit 
to the soul " ; and the law itself, the idea of an abso- 
lute " should be," is authoritative with conscience, 
because it is a deliverance of the eternal perfection 
to a mind that has to grow, and is imposed, there- 
fore, by the infinite upon the finite. 5 

i Types, Vol. II, Part II, p. 61. 2 lb., p. 99. 

3 76., p. 102. * lb., p. 105. 

5 For Lecky's view, see the first chapter of his History of Euro- 
pean Morals, especially pp. 55, G8 11, 75, 120, 121 note, 122 ff. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 47 

The thinkers whom we have considered thus far 
are all intuitionists, either rational, emotional, or 
perceptional. According to them we have an innate 
knowledge of moral distinctions. The truths are 
either engraved on the mind, or revealed by a supe- 
rior rational faculty ; or we feel or perceive immedi- 
ately upon the presentation in consciousness of a 
certain motive or act that it is right or wrong. 
Conscience is an ultimate, original factor, not further 
to be explained, except perhaps by conceiving it as 
implanted in the soul of man by God. 

6. The Empiricists. — But there is another school 
of moralists, which denies that the conscience is 
innate, and attempts to explain it as an acquisition, 1 
as a product of experience. We have no special 
moral faculty which intuitively distinguishes between 
right and wrong. Our knowledge of morality is, 
like all other knowledge, acquired by experience. 
We may call the advocates of this view empiricists 
(from the Greek word e\iireipla, empeiria, experience). 

(1) Thus Thomas Hobbes 2 says: "It is either 
science or opinion which we commonly mean by the 
word conscience ; for men say that such a thing is true 
in or upon their conscience; which they never do when 

1 Some of the later mediaeval thinkers, like Duns Scotus and 
Occam, reject the view that we have an innate knowledge of 
morality, and hold that we know right and wrong simply because 
God reveals it to us in the Scriptures. See Lecky, European 
Morals, chap, i, p. 17. 

2 1588-1079. Selections from Holmes's ethical writings by 
Sneath, and in Selby-Bigge, British Moralists, Vol. II. 



48 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

they think it doubtful, and therefore they know, or 
think they know it to be true. But men, when they 
say things upon their conscience, are not therefore 
presumed certainly to know the truth of what they 
say : it remaineth then that that word is used by 
them that have an opinion, not only of the truth of 
a thing, but also of their knowledge of it; to which 
the truth of the proposition is consequent. Con- 
science I therefore define to be opinion of evidence." 1 
Again : " I conceive that when a man deliberates 
whether he shall do a thing or not do it, he does 
nothing else but consider whether it be better for 
himself to do it or not to do it." 2 " Moral philosophy 
is nothing else but the science of what is good and 
evil in the conversation and society of mankind. 
Good and evil are names, that signify our appetites 
and aversions, which in different tempers, customs, 
and doctrines of men are different, and divers men 
differ not only in their judgment on the senses of 
what is pleasant and unpleasant — but also of what 
is conformable or disagreeable to reason in the 
actions of common life." 3 

(2) With all this John Locke 4 practically agrees. 
He, too, rejects the teaching that there are innate ideas 
or truths, either "speculative" or "practical." Na- 
ture has put into man a desire of happiness and an 
aversion to misery, and these are natural tendencies 

1 Human Nature, chap, vi, § 8. 2 On Liberty and Necessity. 
3 Leviathan, chap. xv. See Lecky, European Morals, chap. i. 
For bibliography see Weber, History of Philosophy, p. 301 note. 
* 1632-1704. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 49 

or practical principles which influence all our actions. 1 
That which is apt to cause pleasure in us we call 
good, that which has an aptness to cause pain we 
call evil. 2 Now God has so arranged it that certain 
modes of conduct produce public happiness and 
preserve society, and also benefit the agent himself. 
Men discover these and accept them as rules of 
practice. 3 To these rules are annexed certain re- 
wards and punishments, either by God (rewards and 
punishments of infinite weight and duration in an- 
other life) or by men (legal punishments, popular 
approbation or condemnation, loss of reputation), 
which are goods and evils not the natural product 
and consequence of the actions themselves. 4 Men 
then refer to these rules or laws, i.e., the law of 
God, the law of politic society, the law of fashion or 
private censure, and compare their actions to them. 
They judge of the moral rectitude of their acts 
according as these agree or do not agree with the 
rules. 5 Moral good and evil, then, is only the con- 
formity or disagreement of our voluntary action to 
some law, whereby good and evil is drawn on us by 
the will and power of the lawmaker. 6 Hence con- 
science is "nothing else but our opinion or judgment 
of the moral rectitude or pravity of our actions." 7 

1 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. I, chap, iii, § 3. 
See also the notes in Locke's Common-Place Book, published 
by Lord King. 

2 lb., Bk. II, chap, xx, § 2 ; chap, xxi, §§ 42 f. 

8 lb., Bk. II, chap, iii, § 6. * lb., Bk. II, chap, xxviii, §§ 6 ff. 
6 lb., § 13. 6 /&., § 5. ' lb., Bk. I, chap, iii, § 8. 



50 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

u Many men may come to assent to several moral 
rules and be convinced of their obligation in the 
same way in which they come to the knowledge of 
other things. Others may come to be of the same 
mind from their education, company, and customs 
of their country ; which persuasion, however got, 
will serve to set conscience on work. Thus we 
make moral judgments without having any rules 
4 written on our hearts.' Some men with the same 
bent of conscience prosecute what others avoid." 1 

We may also reach a knowledge of morality by 
reasoning from certain first principles, which, how- 
ever, are also derived from experience. Knowledge 
is the perception of the connection and agreement 
or disagreement and repugnancy of any of our ideas. 2 
When we perceive this agreement or disagreement 
of two ideas immediately, i.e., without the interven- 
tion of any other, we have intuitive knowledge. 3 But 
when we need other ideas with which to compare 
our two ideas in order to discover their agreement 
or disagreement, we have reasoning or demonstration, 
and the knowledge thus acquired is called demon- 
strative.^ But in order that we may reach certainty, 
there must be, in every step reason makes in de- 
monstrative knowledge, an intuitive knowledge of 
the agreement or disagreement it seeks with the 
next intermediate idea; i.e., every step in reason- 

1 Essay Concerning Htiman Understanding, Bk. I, chap, iii, § 8. 

2/5., Bk. IV, chap, i, §§ 2 ff. 

3 lb., chap, ii, § 1. 4 lb., chap, ii, §§ 2 ff. 



THEORIES OE CONSCIENCE 51 

ing that produces knowledge must have intuitive 
certainty. 1 

Now morality is capable of demonstration as well as 
mathematics. For the precise real essence of the 
things for which moral words stand may be perfectly 
known, and so the congruity*and incongruity of the 
things themselves may be certainly discovered, in 
which consists perfect knowledge. 2 All that is nec- 
essary is that men search after moral truths in the 
same method and with the same indifferency as they 
do mathematical truths. 3 " He that hath the idea 
of an intelligent, but frail and weak, being, made by 
and depending on another who is eternal, omnipotent, 
perfectly wise and good, will as certainly know that 
man is to honor, fear, and obey God, as that the sun 
shines when he sees it. For if he hath but the ideas 
of two such beings in his mind, and will turn his 
thoughts that way, he will as certainly find that the 
inferior, finite, and dependent is under an obliga- 
tion to obey the supreme and infinite, as he is 
certain to find that three, four, and seven, are less 
than fifteen, if he will consider and compute those 
numbers ; nor can he be surer in a clear morning 
that the sun is risen, if he but open his eyes, and 
turn them that way. But yet these truths, being 
ever so certain, ever so clear, he may be ignorant of 

1 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. IV, chap, ii, § 7. 

2 lb., Bk. Ill, chap, xi, § 16. Cf. also Bk. IV, chap, iii, §§ 18, 20 ; 
chap, xii, § 8. 

3 lb., Bk. IV, chap, iii, §20. 



52 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

either, or all of them, who will never take the pains 
to employ his faculties, as he should to inform him- 
self about them." 1 "The idea of a supreme Being, 
infinite in power, goodness, and wisdom, whose 
workmanship we are, and on whom we depend ; and 
the idea of ourselves, as understanding rational 
beings ; being such as are clear in us, would, I sup- 
pose, if duly considered and pursued, afford such 
foundations of our duty and rules of action as might 
place morality among the sciences capable of demon- 
stration : wherein I doubt not but from self-evident 
propositions by necessary consequences, as incontes- 
table as those in mathematics, the measures of right 
and wrong might be made out to any one that will 
apply himself with the same indifferency and atten- 
tion to the one as he does to the other of these 
sciences. The relation of other modes may certainly 
be perceived, as well as those of number and exten- 
sion : and I cannot see why they should not also 
be capable of demonstration if due methods were 
thought on to examine or pursue their agreement 
or disagreement. Where there is no property there 
is no injustice, is a proposition as certain as any 
demonstration in Euclid : for the idea of property 
being the right to anything, and the idea to which 
the name injustice is given being the invasion or 
violation of that right, it is evident that these ideas 
being thus established, and these names annexed 

1 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. IV, chap, xiv, 
§4. 



THEORIES OE CONSCIENCE 53 

to them, I can as certainly know this proposition 
to be true ; as that a triangle has three angles 
equal to two right ones. Again : No government 
allows absolute liberty ; the idea of government 
being the establishment of certain rules or laws 
ivhich require conformity to them, and the idea of 
absolute liberty being for any one to do whatever 
he pleases, I am as capable of being certain of the 
truth of this proposition as of any in mathematics." * 
(3) The Frenchman, Helvetius, 2 does not materially 
differ from Hobbes and Locke. The moral sense is 
by no means innate ; 3 indeed, everything except self- 
love, that is, the aversion to pain and the desire for 
pleasure, is acquired. " In all times and at all places, 
in matters of morals as well as- in matters of mind, 
it is personal interest which governs the judgment 
of individuals ; and general or public interest, which 
determines that of nations. . . . Every man has re- 
gard in his judgments, for nothing but his own inter- 
est." 4 Consequently, the only way to make him 
moral is to make him see his own w r elfare in the public 
welfare, and this can be done by legislation only, i.e., 
by means of the proper rewards and punishments. 
Hence " the science of morals is nothing but the 
science of legislation." 5 

1 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. IV, chap, iii, 
§18. 

2 1715-1771. DeV esprit; DeVhomme. Bibliography in Weber. 

3 Be Vhomme, Section V, chaps, iii, iv ; Section II, chaps, vii, viii. 

4 De V esprit, Discourse ii. 

5 lb., II, 17. Similar to the views of Helvetius are those 



54 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

(4) Even the author of the Evidences of Christian- 
ity, William Paley, 1 denies the existence of a moral 
sense. 2 "Upon the whole," he says, "it seems to 
me, either that there exist no such instincts as com- 
pose what is called the moral sense [here Paley 
opposes Hume] or that they are not now to be dis- 
tinguished from prejudices and habits ; on which 
account they cannot be depended upon in moral 
reasoning," etc. 3 "Virtue is the doing good to 
mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for 
the sake of everlasting happiness." 4 "We can be 
obliged to nothing but what we ourselves are to 
gain or lose something by : for nothing else can 
be a violent motive to us. As we should not be 
obliged to obey the laws of the magistrate, unless 
rewards and punishments, pleasure or pain, some- 
how or other, depended upon our obedience ; so 
neither should we, without the same reason, be 
obliged to do what is right, to practise virtue, 
or to obey the commands of God." 5 The difference 
between an act of prudence and an act of duty is 

of Mandeville (1670-1733, author of TJie Fable of the Bees, 
or Private Vices made Public Benefits), Lamettrie (1700-1751, 
author of Lliomme machine, Discours sur le bonheur), and IIol- 
bach (1723-1780, author of Systeme de la nature). All these 
thinkers are materialists. See especially Lange, History of Mate- 
rialism; Jodl, Geschichte der Ethik ; Martineau, Types, Vol. II, 
pp. 312 ff. ; Lecky, Morals, chap. i. 

1 1743-1803. 

2 See his Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy. 

3 lb., Bk. I, chap. v. 4 lb., Bk. I, chap. vii. 
6 lb., Bk. II, chap. ii. 



THEORIES OE CONSCIENCE 55 

that, "in the one case, we consider what we shall 
gain or lose in the present world ; in the other case, 
we consider also what we shall gain or lose in the 
world to come." l 

(5) Jeremy Bentham's 2 statements on this point 
are not more radical. He says : "Nature has placed 
mankind under the governance of two sovereign 
masters, pain and pleasure. It is for them alone to 
point out what we ought to do, as well as to deter- 
mine what we shall do." 3 "Conscience is a thing 
of fictitious existence supposed to occupy a seat in 
the mind." 4 Conscience is the favorable or unfavor- 
able opinion a man has of his own conduct, and has 
value only in so far as it conforms to the principle 
of utility. It is utterly useless to speak of duties, 
he declares ; the word itself has something disagree- 
able and repulsive in it. While the moralist is 
speaking of duties, each man is thinking of his own 
interests. 5 

According to the philosophers whom we have 
just been considering, man is by birth a moral igno- 
ramus who desires his own happiness. He comes in 
contact with fellows similarly endowed, and in order 
to live with them must obey certain rules. The 

1 Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, Bk. II, chap. iii. 

2 1748-1842. See especially Principles of Morals and Legisla- 
tion. 

3 Principles of Morals, etc., chap. i. 

4 Deontology, Vol. I, p. 137. 

5 For Bentham, see especially Lecky and Martineau, op. cit. 



56 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

pains and pleasures annexed to these laws point 
out to him the course to pursue. Pleasure and 
pain are the great teachers of morality. 

(6) But, it might be asked, how on this scheme 
can we explain the fact that men pronounce judg- 
ment upon acts without thinking about the pleas- 
ures and pains they produce ? How does it happen 
that men love virtue for virtue's sake ? 

An ingenious theory, the so-called theory of asso- 
ciation of ideas, is brought in to settle this difficulty. 1 
David Hartley 2 attempts to show how the moral 
sense is formed in a purely mechanical way. Man 
is at first governed solely by his pleasures and pains. 
He soon learns to associate his pleasures with that 
which pleases him, and then loves this for its own 
sake. The infant connects the idea of its mother 
with the pleasure she procures it, and so comes to 
love her for her own sake. Money in itself pos- 
sesses nothing that is admirable or pleasurable ; it 
is a means of procuring objects of desire, and so 
becomes associated in our minds with the idea of 
pleasure. Hence ^ the miser comes to love it for 
its own sake, and is willing to forego the things 
which the money procures rather than part with a 
fraction of his gold. In the same way the moral 
sentiments are formed. They procure for us many 
advantages which Ave love, and we gradually trans- 

1 We find the beginnings of this theory in Hobbes, Locke, 
Hutcheson, Gay, and Tucker. See Leaky, Vol. I, pp. 22 ff. 

2 1705-1757. Observations on Man. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 57 

fer our affections from these to the things which 
procure them, and love virtue for virtue's sake. 1 

(7) The most careful and detailed explanation 
of the moral faculty from this standpoint is given 
by Alexander Bain. 2 According to him, conscience 
is an imitation within ourselves of the government 
without us. The first lesson that the child learns 
as a moral agent is obedience. " The child's suscepti- 
bility to pleasure and pain is made use of to bring 
about this obedience, and a mental association is rap- 
idly formed between disobedience and apprehended 
pain, more or less magnified by fear." Forbidden 
actions arouse a certain dread ; the fear of encoun- 
tering pain is conscience in its earliest germ. The 
sentiment of love or respect toward persons in 
authority infuses a different species of dread, the 
dread of giving pain to a beloved object. Later 
on, the child learns to appreciate the reasons or 
motives that led to the imposition of the rules of 
conduct. " When the young mind is able to take 
notice of the use and meaning of the prohibitions 
imposed upon it, and to approve of the end intended 
by them, a new motive is added, and the conscience 
is then a triple compound, and begirds the action in 

1 On Man, Vol. I, pp. 473-475 ; Vol. II, 338 f. See LecJcy, Vol. I, 
pp. 22 ff., 67 note ; Ribot, La psychologie anglaise contemporaine. 
This view is developed by Jaines Mill (Analysis of the Human 
Mind, Vol. II), and John Stuart Mill (1806-1873), Utilitarianism, 
especially pp. 40-42, 44, 45, 46, 53 ff. 

2 Born 1818. The Emotions and the Will ; Mental and Moral 
Science. 



58 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

question with a threefold fear ; the last ingredient 
being paramount in the maturity of the sympathies 
and the reason. All that we understand by the 
authority of conscience, the senthnent of obligation, 
the feeling of right, the sting of remorse, — can be 
nothing else than so many modes of expressing the 
acquired aversion and dread toward actions asso- 
ciated in the mind with the consequences now 
stated." 

But there may not be present to a man's mind 
any of these motives, namely, the fear of retribution, 
or the respect to the authority commanding, affec- 
tion or sympathy toward the persons or interests for 
whose sake the duty is imposed, his own advantage 
indirectly concerned, his religious feeling, his indi- 
vidual sentiments in accord with the spirit of the pre- 
cept, or the infection of example. " Just as in the 
love of money for its own sake, one may come to 
form a habit of acting in a particular way, although 
the special impulses that were the original moving 
causes no longer recur to the mind." Here we have 
a case of the sense of duty in the abstract. This 
does not prove, however, that there exists a primi- 
tive sentiment of duty in the abstract, any more 
than the conduct of the miser proves that we are 
born with the love of gold in the abstract. " It is the 
tendency of association to erect new centres of force, 
detached from the particulars that originally gave 
them meaning ; which new creations will sometimes 
assemble round themselves a more powerful body of 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 59 

sentiment than conld.be inspired by any one of the 
constituent realities." 1 

We have examined the extreme rationalistic and 
empiristic views of conscience. According to one 
school, conscience is a natural endowment of man ; 
the moral truths are inherent in his very nature ; 
his soul is a tablet with moral laws written upon it. 
According to the other, conscience is not original, 
but acquired in the life of the individual. The 
soul is at birth an empty tablet, having no moral 
truths written upon it. 

7. Reconciliation of Intuitionism and Empiri- 
cism. — Let us now consider some attempts that 
have been made to reconcile this opposition. Kant 
approaches the problem from the rationalistic side, 
Spencer from the empiristic. 2 Kant repudiates the 
extreme rationalistic thesis that we have an innate 
knowledge of particular moral truths, and regards 
as the a priori element the category of obligation, a 
general moral form whose content is filled by experi- 
ence. 3 Spencer, on the other hand, concedes the 

1 Emotions, 3d ed., chap, xv, §§ 18 ff. ; The Will, chap, x, es- 
pecially §§ 8 ft ; also chapter on " Moral Faculty," in Mental and 
Moral Science. For criticism of jBain, see Calderwood, Handbook, 
Part. I, Div. II, chap. iii. 

2 It is worthy of note that both of these philosophers were at 
one time believers in the moral-sense doctrine of Shaftesbury and 
Hutcheson. See p. 41, note 3, and Spencer's first edition of the 
Social Statics. 

3 His theory reminds one of the mediaeval conception of the 
synderesis. 



60 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

presence of an a 'priori element, and denies that the 
conscience is merely an acquisition of individual 
experience. Let us examine the views of these 
thinkers a little more in detail. 

(1) In his Kritik of Pure Reason Immanuel 
Kant 1 asks the question, How is knowledge pos- 
sible, or how is it possible that man can make 
synthetic judgments a priori? Experience fur- 
nishes us with only a limited number of cases ; it 
cannot give us universality and necessity. Are 
these universal and necessary truths innate, as 
old rationalism asserted ? Not exactly, Kant an- 
swers. The mind is endowed with certain functions 
or principles or forms or categories, which are not 
derived from experience, but are prior to experience, 
hence a priori or pure. Though we may not be 
conscious of them, they act in every rational crea- 
ture?" The senses furnish the mind with the raw 
materials, while the sensibility and the understand- 
ing, the two powers of the mind, arrange them 
according to the forms of space, time, causality, etc. 
Thus, for example, I see all things in space because 
my mind functions according to the space form. 
When I judge that heat expands bodies, I have 
ideas of heat, expansion, and bodies, elements ulti- 
mately furnished by sensation, and the idea that the 
heat is the cause of the expansion, the notion of 

1 1729-1804. For Kant's ethics, see Cohen, Kant's Begrundung 
der Ethik ; Schurman, Kantian Ethics and the Ethics of Evolu- 
tion; Porter, KanV s Ethics ; Paulsen, Kant; translation of Kant's 
ethical writings by Abbott, KanVs Theory of Ethics. 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 61 

causality, which is not derived from sensation, but 
which is a way my intellect has of looking at things. 
These forms or categories are, as it were, the colored 
glasses through which the theoretical reason views 
the world. 1 

However, we approach the world not merely from 
the theoretical standpoint, but from the practical or 
moral standpoint ; we say not only what is, but 
what ought to be. The reason not only arranges 
its phenomena in space, time, and according to the 
causal law, but also commands that they be arranged 
according to the moral law. Its commands are 
unconditional, absolute, or categorical imperatives; 
it speaks with authority : Thou shalt, Thou shalt 
not. " The theoretical use of reason is that by 
which I know a priori (as necessary) that something 
is, while the practical use of reason is that by which 
I know a priori what ought to be." I assume that 
there really exist pure moral laws, which determine 
completely a priori the conduct of every rational 
creature. I can with justice presuppose the prop- 
osition because I can appeal not only to the proofs 
of the most enlightened moralists, but also to the 
moral judgment of every human being. 2 

Now the question is, How is all this possible ? 
Knowledge is possible, as we have seen, because of 

1 For Kant's theory of knowledge, see the histories of philos- 
ophy, e.g., Weber, where a bibliography is found. 

2 Kritik of Pure Beason, Max Miiller's translation, pp. 510, 647. 
See also Abbott's translation of the ethical writings, pp. 28, 97 f., 
119, 136, 



62 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS 

certain innate or a 'priori forms or conditions which 
make it necessary for the mind to function as it 
functions. But how is morality possible ? Are the 
different imperatives or moral laws innate, as Cud- 
worth and men of his ilk would assert ? No, says 
Kant, not exactly. But there is present in the 
'practical reason a formal principle or condition, a 
form or category of obligation or oughtness, not 
derived from experience, but prior to it, a priori, a 
universally valid law, by virtue of which man is a 
moral being. 1 And, what does this categorical im- 
perative enjoin ? we ask. Kant answers, " Act so 
that the maxim of thy will can always at the same 
time hold good as a principle of universal legisla- 
tion." 2 That is, do not perform acts of which thou 
canst not will that they become universal. The 
deceiver cannot will that lying should become a uni- 
versal law, for with such a law there would be no 
promises at all ; and his maxim would necessarily 
destroy itself. This law or maxim is valid for all 
rational creatures generally, not only under certain 
contingent conditions, but with absolute necessity. 
Although common men do not conceive it in such 
an abstract and universal form, yet they always 
really have it before their eyes, and use it as the 
standard of their decision. 3 

1 See Abbott, Kant's Theory of Ethics, p. 28. 

2 75., pp. 17 ff., 38 ff. 

3 76., pp. 20, 21, 93, 120 note, 192, 311, 321, 343. "Man 
(even the worst) does not in any maxim, as it were, rebelliously 
abandon the moral law (and renounce obedience to it). On the 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 63 

* There is, then, a moral imperative inherent in the 
very nature of man, which categorically commands. 
But the question is, Whence does it come ? Is it 
the voice of a suprasensible being speaking in the 
heart of man ? In a certain sense, yes. It is the 
product of the free will, of the intelligible ego, of 
the thing-in-itself. 1 "Freedom is the ratio essendi 
of the moral law," that is, the free will imposes the 
law upon itself ; and the moral law is " the ratio 
cognoscendi of freedom," that is, we must logically 
conclude from the fact that there is a categorical 
imperative in us, that there is a free will which im- 
poses it. 2 " The question, then, how a categorical 
imperative is possible, can be answered to this ex- 
tent, that we can assign the only hypothesis on which 
it is possible, namely, the idea of freedom ; and we 
can also discern the necessity of this hypothesis, and 
this is sufficient for the practical exercise of reason, 
that is, for the conviction of the validity of this im- 
perative, and hence of the moral law : but how this 
hypothesis itself is possible can never be discerned 
by any human reason." 3 

contrary, this forces itself upon him irresistibly by virtue of his 
moral nature, and if no other spring opposed it, he would also 
adopt it into his ultimate maxim as the adequate determining 
principle of his elective will, — that is, he would be morally 
good." 

1 Abbott, Kant's Theory of Ethics, pp. 65 ff. Green : " It is the 
very essence of moral duty to be imposed by man upon himself." 

2 " I can because I must." 

3 lb., p. 81. See also p. 84 : " It is, therefore, no fault in our 
deduction of the supreme principle of morality, but an objection 



64 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS 

(2) Although Charles Darwin 1 did not work out a 
complete system of ethics, it will be interesting to 
examine his view of conscience before taking up 
Spencer's theory. Darwin bases our entire moral 
nature upon the social impulse or sympathy. 2 He 
regards it as highly probable that any animal what- 
ever, endowed with well-marked social instincts, the 
parental and filial affections being herein included, 
would inevitably acquire a moral sense or conscience 
as soon as its intellectual powers had become as well 
or nearly as well developed as in man. Let us im- 
agine that the animal has certain self-regarding 
instincts, e.g., the desire to satisfy hunger or any 
passion such as vengeance, and social instincts, which 
lead it to take pleasure in the society of its fellows 
and to feel for them and to perform services for 
them. Such selfish instincts, though strong, are 
temporary, and can, for a time, be fully satisfied. 
With animals, however, which live permanently in 
a body, the social instincts are ever present and per- 
sistent. Now suppose that an enduring and always 

that should be made to human reason in general that it cannot 
enable us to conceive the absolute necessity of an unconditional 
practical law such as the categorical imperative must be." To the 
Kantian school belong, T. H. Green {Prolegomena to Ethics, 1883), 
Muirhead {Elements of Ethics), J. S. Mackenzie {Manual of Eth- 
ics), J. Seth {A Study of Ethical Principles), and D'Arcy {A Short 
Study of Ethics) . 

1 1808-1882. For exposition and criticism, see Schurman, Ethi- 
cal Import of Darwinism ; Sully, Sensation and Intuition, pp. 17, 
18; Martineau, Types; Williams, Evolutional Ethics; Guyau, La 
morale anglaise contemporaine. 

2 See his Descent of Man, chap. iv. • 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 65 

present social instinct has yielded to one of these 
other instincts which was stronger at the time, but 
did not endure nor leave behind it a very vivid 
impression (like hunger). And suppose the animal 
has the power of memory. It will remember its past 
actions and motives, and feel dissatisfaction or even 
misery because an enduring instinct was not satisfied. 1 
On the same principle we may explain why man 
feels that he ought to obey one instinctive desire 
rather than another ; why he is bitterly regretful if 
he has yielded to a strong sense of self-preserva- 
tion, and has not risked his life to save that of a 
fellow-creature, or why he regrets having stolen food 
from hunger. 2 Man reflects and so cannot help 
remembering the past. He will be driven to make 
a comparison between the impression of past hunger, 
vengeance satisfied, etc., and the ever present in- 
stinct of sympathy, and his early knowledge of what 
others consider as blamable or praiseworthy. " This 
knowledge cannot be banished from his mind, and 
from instinctive sympathy is esteemed of great mo- 
ment. He will feel as if he had been balked in 
following a present instinct or habit, and this with 

1 The Descent of Man, pp. 98 ff. Darwin finds "something 
very like a conscience " in dogs. Thus, "a struggle may often be 
observed in animals between different instincts, or between an 
instinct and some habitual disposition, as when a dog rushes after 
a hare, is rebuked, pauses, hesitates, pursues again, or returns 
ashamed to his master ; or as between the love of a female dog for 
her young puppies and her master, — for she may be seen to 
slink away to them, as if half ashamed of not accompanying her 
master." p. 107. 2 lb., p. 110. 



66 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

all animals causes dissatisfaction and even misery." 
He will then feel remorse, repentance, regret, or 
shame. " He will consequently resolve, more or less 
firmly, to act differently for the future ; and this 
is conscience ; for conscience looks backwards, and 
serves as a guide to the future." 1 Prompted by his 
conscience man will become habituated to self-com- 
mand, so that his desires and passions will yield 
instantly to his social instincts. It is possible that 
the habit of self-command may, like other habits, be 
inherited. " Thus at last man comes to feel, through 
acquired and perhaps inherited habit, that it is best 
for him to obey his more persistent impulses. The 
imperious word ought seems merely to imply the 
consciousness of the existence of a rule of conduct, 
however it may have originated." 2 

(3) According to Herbert Spencer 3 the essential 
trait in the moral consciousness is the control of 
some feeling or feelings by some other feeling or 
feelings. In the rudest groups of society, the lead- 
ing check to the immediate satisfaction of desires is 
the fear of the anger of fellow-savages. When 
special strength, skill, or courage makes one of them 
a leader in battle, he inspires the most fear, and 
there comes to be a more decided check than before. 

1 TJie Descent of Man, pp. 113 f. 

2 See also the interesting passage on p. 124; which I have quoted 
in chap, iii, § 9, of this book. A. Sutherland has developed 
Darwin's theory in his able work, TJie Origin and Growth of the 
Moral Instinct, 2 vols., 1808. 

3 Born 1820. Principles of Ethics. 



THEORIES OE CONSCIENCE 67 

As chieftainship is established, aggression upon and 
disobedience to the leader are regarded as greater 
evils still. That is, political control begins to differ- 
entiate from the more indefinite control of mutual 
dread. Meanwhile there has been developing the 
ghost-theory. The double of a deceased man is con- 
ceived as able to injure the survivors. Now there 
grows up another kind of check on immediate satis- 
faction of the desires — a check constituted by ideas 
of the evils which ghosts may inflict if offended ; 
and when political headship gets settled, and the 
ghosts of dead chiefs are especially dreaded, there 
begins to take shape the form of restraint distin- 
guished as religious. These three differentiated 
forms of control, while enforcing kindred restraints 
and incentives, also enforce one another. All of 
them involve the sacrifice of immediate special bene- 
fits for the sake of more distant and general benefits. 
But joint aggressions upon men outside of the 
society cannot prosper if there are many aggressions 
within the society. Gradually, as the power of the 
ruler becomes greater, he forbids the aggressions 
and inflicts punishments for disobedience. Pres- 
ently, political restraints of this class are enforced 
by religious restraints. Dread of the ghost of the 
dead chief tends to produce regard for the com- 
mands he habitually gave, and they eventually 
acquire sacredness. With further social evolution 
come further interdicts, until eventually there grows 
up a body of civil laws, the breach of which is also 



68 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS 

disapproved by the society and looked upon as dis- 
pleasing to the gods. 

These three controls, political, religious, and 
social, however, do not constitute the moral con- 
trol, but are only preparatory to it. The moral 
restraints refer not to the extrinsic effects of actions, 
but to their intrinsic effects, not to the incidental, 
collateral, non-necessary consequences of the acts, 
but to the consequences which the acts naturally 
produce. " The truly moral deterrent from murder 
is not constituted by a representation of hanging 
as a consequence, or by a representation of the 
tortures of hell as a consequence, or by a represen- 
tation of the horror and hatred excited in fellow- 
men ; but by a representation of the necessary 
natural results — the infliction of death-agony on 
the victim, the destruction of all his possibilities of 
happiness, the entailed sufferings to his belongings." 
" Only after political, religious, and social restraints 
have produced a stable community, can there be suf- 
ficient experience of the pains, positive and negative, 
sensational and emotional, which crimes of aggres- 
sion cause, as to generate that moral aversion to 
them constituted by consciousness of their intrinsi- 
cally evil results." 

But I do not always fear the social, political, and 
religious punishments when I contemplate a certain 
act, nor do I think of the immediate consequences 
which it has upon others. I simply feel that the 
act ought not to be done, I feel its authoritative- 



- 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 69 

ness and its obligation without considering any of 
these effects at all. Now the question arises, How 
does there arise this feeling of moral obligation in 
general? It is an abstract sentiment generated in 
a manner analogous to that in which abstract ideas 
are generated. "Accumulated experiences have pro- 
duced the consciousness that guidance by feelings 
which refer to remote and general results is usually 
more conducive to welfare than guidance by feelings 
to be immediately gratified." The idea of authori- 
tativeness has come to be connected with feelings 
having these traits. This idea of authoritativeness 
is one element in the abstract consciousness of 
duty. But there is another element — the element 
of coerciveness. The sense of coerciveness or com- 
pulsion which the consciousness of duty includes, 
and which the word obligation indicates, has been 
generated by fears of the political, social, and reli- 
gious penalties. Now, this sense of coerciveness 
becomes directly connected with the above-men- 
tioned moral feelings in this way. The political, 
social, and religious motives are mainly formed of 
represented future results (of penalties), and so is 
the moral restraining motive (of the intrinsic ef- 
fects). Hence it happens "that the representations, 
having much in common, and often being aroused 
at the same time, the fear joined with the three 
sets becomes, by association, joined with the fourth. 
Thinking of the extrinsic effects of a forbidden act 
excites a dread which continues present while the 



70 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

intrinsic effects of the act are thought of ; and, 
being thus linked with these intrinsic effects, causes 
a vague sense of moral compulsion." 1 

Heredity plays an important part in the process. 
There have been, and still are, developing in the 
race certain fundamental moral intuitions. Though 
these moral intuitions are the result of accumulated 
experiences of utility, gradually organized and in- 
herited, they have come to be quite independent of 
conscious experience. The experiences of utility 
organized and consolidated through all past gen- 
erations of the human race have been producing 
corresponding nervous modifications, which, by con- 
tinued transmission and accumulation, have become 
in us certain faculties of moral intuition — certain 
emotions responding to right and wrong conduct, 
which have no apparent basis in the individual 
experiences of utility. 2 

1 Data of Ethics, §§ 44 ff. 

2 lb., § 45. See Spencer's letter Mill, quoted in § 45 of the 
Data of Ethics : "To make my position fully understood, it seems 
needful to add that, corresponding to the fundamental propositions 
of a developed Moral Science, there have been, and still are, devel- 
oping in the race, certain fundamental moral intuitions ; and that, 
though these moral intuitions are the results of accumulated ex- 
periences of Utility, gradually organized and inherited, they have 
come to he quite independent of conscious experience. Just in the 
same way that I believe the intuition of space, possessed by any 
living individual, to have arisen from organized and consolidated 
experiences of all antecedent individuals who bequeathed to him 
their slowly developed nervous organizations — just as I believe 
that this intuition, requiring only to be made definite and com- 
plete by personal experiences, has practically become a form of 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 71 

Here, it seems to me, we get the compromise be- 
tween extreme intuitionism and extreme empiri- 
cism of which I spoke before. Spencer is perfectly 
conscious of his relationship to the two schools. "It 
is possible," he says, 1 "to agree with moralists of the 
intuitive school respecting the existence of a moral 
sense, while differing with them respecting its 
origin. I have contended in the foregoing division 
of this work, and elsewhere, that though there exist 
feelings of the kind alleged, they are not of super- 
natural origin, but of natural origin ; that, being 
generated by the discipline of the social activities, 
internal and external, they are not alike in all men, 
but differ more or less everywhere in proportion as 
the social activities differ ; and that, in virtue of 
their mode of genesis, they have a coordinate author- 
ity with the inductions of utility." "But now, 
while we are shown that the moral-sense doctrine 
in its original form is not true, we are also shown 
that it adumbrates a truth, and a much higher truth. 

thought, apparently quite independent of experience ; so do I 
believe that the experiences of utility, organized and consolidated 
through all past generations of the human race, have been pro- 
ducing corresponding nervous modifications, which, by continued 
transmission and accumulation, have become in us certain facul- 
ties of moral intuition — certain emotions responding to right and 
wrong conduct, which have no apparent basis in the individual 
experiences of utility. I also hold that, just as the space-intuition 
responds to the exact demonstrations of Geometry, and has its 
rough conclusions interpreted and verified by them ; so will moral 
intuitions respond to the demonstrations of Moral Science, and will 
have their rough conclusions interpreted and verified by them." 
1 The Inductions of Ethics, § 117. 



72 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

For the facts cited, chapter after chapter, unite in 
proving that the sentiments and ideas current in 
each society become adjusted to the kinds of activity 
predominating in it. A life of constant external 
enmity generates a code in which aggression, con- 
quest, revenge, are inculcated, while peaceful occu- 
pations are reprobated. Conversely, a life of settled 
internal amity generates a code inculcating the 
virtues conducing to harmonious cooperation — 
justice, honesty, veracity, regard for others' claims. 
And the implication is that if the life of internal 
amity continues unbroken from generation to gen- 
eration, there must result not only the appropriate 
code, but the appropriate emotional nature — a moral 
sense adapted to moral requirements. Men so con- 
ditioned will acquire, to the degree needful for com- 
plete guidance, that innate conscience which the 
intuitive moralists erroneously suppose to be pos- 
sessed by mankind at large. There needs but a 
continuance of absolute peace externally, and a 
rigorous insistence of non-aggression internally to 
ensure the moulding of men into a form naturally 
characterized by all the virtues." 1 

(4) With this theory, as worked out by Spencer, 
the views of M. Guyau, 2 Leslie Stephen, 3 B. Car- 

1 Inductions, § 191. 

2 Esquisse d'une morale sa7is obligation ni sanction, 2d ed., 
1881 ; English translation, 1899 ; La morale anglaise contempo- 
raine, 1885, Conclusion, pp. 423 ff. 

3 The Science of Ethics, 1882: " Conscience is the utterance of 
the public spirit of the race, ordering us to obey the primary con- 



THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 73 

neri, 1 H. Hoffding, 2 G. von Gizycki, 3 R. von Jhering, 4 
W. Wundt, 6 F. Paulsen, 6 S. Alexander, 7 Hugo 
Miinsterberg, 8 Paul Ree, 9 GeorgQ Simmel, 10 and 
A. Sutherland 11 practically agree. 12 

ditions of its welfare, and it acts not the less forcibly though we 
may not understand the source of its authority or the end at which 
it is aiming." 

1 Sittlichkeit und Darwinismus, 1871. 

2 Psychology, VI, C, § 8; Ethik, 1888. Conscience, he holds, is 
an instinct which has developed in the race. It commands categori- 
cally, like all instincts. 

3 Moralphilosophie, 1889. 

4 Der Zwech im Becht, 1877, 3d ed., 1893. 

5 Ethik, 1886, 2d ed., 1892, English translation, in 3 vols., by 
Titchener, Washburn, and Gulliver. 

6 System der Ethilc, 1889, 5th ed., 1899, edited and translated by 
Thilly, 1899. According to Paulsen, duty at first consists in acting 
in accordance with custom. I perform certain customary acts be- 
cause it is the will of my surroundings. The will of the people 
speaks to the individual in custom. In my feeling of duty, as it 
now exists, the will of my parents, teachers, ancestors, and race is 
expressed. The authority of the gods whom I worship is also mani- 
fested in the feeling. At first man obeys the law because of external 
authority ; in time he comes to feel an inner obligation to the law, 
he acknowledges the right of others over him. See Bk. II, chap. v. 

7 Moral Order and Progress, 1889. 

8 Der TJrsprung der Sittlichkeit, 1889. 

9 Die Entstehung des Gewissens, 1885. 

10 Einleitung in die Moralwissenschaft, 2 vols., 1892, 1893. See 
Vol. I, chap. i. 

11 The Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct, 2 vols., 1898. 

12 For evolutional ethics, see Williams, A Beview of Evolutional 
Ethics. 



CHAPTER III 

ANALYSIS AND EXPLANATION OF CONSCIENCE * 

1. Tlie Psychological Facts. — Now that we have 
examined the historical attempts which have been 
made to account for the moral consciousness, let us 
try to come to some conclusion ourselves. We can- 
not, however, it seems to me, accomplish anything 
without a thorough understanding of what the fact 
we are considering is. We must first analyze the 
psychical processes concerned in this discussion, and 
then seek to interpret them. The false explanations 
which have been advanced by so many of the writers 
whom we have passed in review, are, in my opinion, 
largely due to their neglect of psychology. To 
assert that we must study our phenomena psycho- 
logically, means simply that we must know what 
we are talking about. If the science of ethics is 

1 See, besides the works mentioned in the course of the last 
chapter : Spencer, Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, Part VIII, 
chaps, vii f. ; Wundt. Physiological Psychology, Vol. II, chap, 
xviii, 3 ; Hoffding, Psychology, VI, C, § 8 ; Baldwin, Feeling 
and Will, pp. 205 ff. ; Sully, The Human 3Iind, Vol. II, pp. 
155 ff.; Ladd, Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, pp. 579 ff. ; 
Jodl, Lehrbuch der Psychologie, pp. 715 ff . ; Sutherland, The Ori- 
gin and Growth of the Moral Instinct, especially Vol. II, chaps, xv ff. 
— Parts of this chapter appeared in the January number of the 
Philosophical Review, 1900. 

74 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 75 

to achieve any results, it must do what all other 
sciences are doing : it must analyze the facts which 
it is desirous of explaining. Metaphysical specula- 
tions on ethics will have to follow in the wake of 
psychology. 1 

As was said before, we pronounce moral judgments 
upon ourselves as well as upon others ; we approve 
and disapprove of motives and acts, we call them 
right and wrong. Certain modes of conduct, we say, 
ought to be performed, others ought to be avoided. 
A bankrupt conveys a piece of property to a friend 
in order to avoid the pa}mient of a just debt, with 
the understanding that it is to be returned to him 
later ; but when the time comes, the receiver of the 
property fails to make restitution. I disapprove of 
the conduct of both parties ; I say that they did 
wrong, that they ought not to have acted as they did. 
Jean Valjean, the released galley-slave in Hugo's Les 
Miserables, finds a refuge in the home of the good 
curS after every one else had refused him shelter, 
and repays his benefactor by robbing him. The 
priest forgives him, and even tells a falsehood to 
save him from punishment. We say the convict 
did wrong, the priest did right. Jean Valjean, over- 
come by the sweet charity of the good old man, 
leads a useful and honorable life from that time on. 
But one day he hears of the apprehension of a sup- 
posed Jean Valjean. Now what shall he do ? One 

1 See Simmel, Einleitung in die Morahvissenschaft, Vol. I, 
Preface. 



-76 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

voice within him tells him to let things take their 
natural course, and not to forsake the position 
achieved after so much suffering and transgression. 
The happiness of thousands depends upon his remain- 
ing where he is. But another voice,' which we call 
his conscience, blames him for these thoughts, and 
urges him authoritatively to do what is right and 
give himself up. After terrible inner struggles, 
the conscience finally triumphs, and Jean Valjean 
goes back to the galleys. The conflict is at an end, 
the moral craving is satisfied, and peace reigns in 
his heart. Had he allowed the supposed Jean Val- 
jean to be punished in his stead, he would have 
suffered remorse, stings or pangs of conscience, as 
we say. He would have looked back upon his con- 
duct and still have recognized the authority of the 
right over the wrong. We contemplate the mis- 
fortune of the real Jean Valjean with the deepest 
pity, but with all our sorrowing we cannot wish that 
he had acted differently. Our moral approval rises 
to moral enthusiasm, in which our respect and love 
for the moral law reach their height ; we bow down 
humbly before the rule of right as before a higher 
power, and say, Thy will, not mine, be done. 

2. Analysis of Conscience. — We have here ex- 
amples of the phenomenon which we desire to inves- 
tigate. The idea of a motive or an act arises in my 
consciousness. At once or after some reflection, pecu- 
liar feelings and impulses group themselves around 
this idea : feelings of approval which are pleasura- 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 77 

ble, or (as the case may be), feelings of disapproval, 
which are painful ; feelings urging me toward the 
performance of the act, commanding me, forcing me, 
as it were, to keep it before my mind and to recog- 
nize its authority over me, crying out, yes, yes, you 
must : or feelings deterring me from the act ; a 
kind of shame takes possession of me, I feel ill at 
ease, in spite of the fact that the forbidden thing 
may have a certain charm about it. Or, I may have 
the ideas of several acts or springs of conduct before 
me, one surrounded by feelings of approval and obli- 
gation, the other by feelings of disapproval and de- 
terrence, the one carrying with it a sense of authority 
over the other. These ideas may rise and fall in 
consciousness, and with them their concomitant feel- 
ings. I may flit from one set to the other, until at 
last one may persist and lead to an act of volition, 
and drive out the other. These inner processes 
express themselves in judgments : This act is right 
or good ; This act is wrong or bad ; I ought to do 
this act ; I ought not to do that. In popular lan- 
guage we say, My conscience approves of this, con- 
demns that, commands this, prohibits that; my 
conscience warns me against or urges me toward 
a certain line of action; I must obey the voice of 
my conscience. In case the right act is willed 
and done, or even willed without being done, I feel 
satisfied for having willed it, and perhaps a certain 
sorrow for the vanquished possibility with which I 
was in love. Indeed, my moral satisfaction and 



78 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

self -approval may become so strong as to fill me 
with Pharisaic vanity, and I may gloat over my 
moral triumph. If the wrong act wins the victory, 
and the thought of the right one lingers on in con- 
sciousness, I feel sad, troubled, ashamed, contempti- 
ble. I look upon the conquered past and read a 
silent sorrow in its face, which goes to my heart and 
causes my soul to resound with self-reproaches. 1 I 
sit in judgment upon myself and pronounce myself 
guilty. These painful feelings we call feelings of 
remorse, repentance, pangs of conscience. They 
may become so intense as to throw the sufferer into 
the depths of despair, and make him willing and 
even anxious to undergo the severest punishments. 

We see, then, that conscience functions both be- 
fore and after the performance of the act. When 
the act perceived or thought of is not my own, 
but another's, or only an imagined one, the pro- 
cess which takes place is much the same. The 
feelings and impulses of approval or disapproval, 
already mentioned, spring up in me even more read- 
ily than before ; I judge that the act is right or 
wrong, and ought or ought not to be done. 

Certain feelings and impulses, then, surround the 
idea of a deed and lead us to make a judgment. 
The act arouses certain feelings and impulses in us, 

1 See Euripides's Orestes, JEschylus's Agamemnon. See also 
the Gospel of St. Matthew: "And Peter remembered the word of 
Jesus, which said unto him : Before the cock crow, thou shalt 
deny me thrice. And he went out and wept bitterly." 






ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 79 

and we express this effect in a judgment of value. 
When we characterize an act as right or wrong 
in this way, we are really characterizing ourselves. 
We evaluate the act because it makes a certain 
impression upon us, just as we call an object beau- 
tiful because it arouses certain feelings in us. If 
these feelings were absent, if acts did not, for some 
reason or other, arouse in us feelings of approval, 
disapproval, and obligation, we should not judge 
as we do, or make moral evaluations. 

All the processes which we have just mentioned 
we may gather together and embrace under one 
general term, conscience. We must emphasize the 
fact that conscience is a mere general name used 
to designate a series of complex phenomena, and not 
a separate special faculty. Hence to say, as com- 
mon sense does, that we make moral judgments 
because we have a faculty for making them, 1 does 
not help us. It is not an explanation of the fact 
that we remember, to refer to a faculty or power 
of memory. To say that we remember because we 
have the power of memory, is like saying that we 
remember because we remember. 2 

3. The Feeling of Obligation. — We find in con- 
science a complexus of psychical elements. Let us 
consider some of the more characteristic ones a 



1 Cf. chap, ii, § 3. 

2 All these explanations remind us of Moliere's physician, who, 
when asked why opium made one sleep, sagely replied : " Because 
there is in it a dormitive power. ' ' 



80 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

little more in detail. We have a mixture of feel- 
ing and impulse which we may call the feeling of 
obligation, or oughtness. 1 This feeling, which Butler 
emphasized so strongly, 2 is, however, not merely a 
feeling of "impulsion toward" a line of conduct, 
not the same as any other impulse, as Guyau 
asserts. 3 To say that a " pointer ought to point," is 
not, as Darwin seems to think, 4 the same as to say 
that a man ought to be honest. Nor, again, is this 
feeling of obligation identical with the feeling of 
logical necessity, as Clarke would appear to hold. 5 
Moral obligation is a peculiar kind of obligation, a 
unique mental process. We cannot describe it, we 
must experience it in order to understand it. In this 
regard, however, it is like all other psychical states. 
It is as impossible to describe obligation to a being 
that does not feel it, as it is to talk to a blind man 
of colors. 

It is this feeling of obligation which inspires men 
with awe, and makes them believe that conscience 
is a voice from another world. Instead of explain- 
ing the phenomenon they personify it, looking upon 
it as something outside of themselves, as a direct 
messenger from heaven. Even philosophers find it 
difficult to account for the authoritativeness of con- 

1 The state of consciousness which we call the feeling of obliga- 
tion contains an active or impulsive element. 

2 See chap, ii, § 5 (1). 

8 Esquisse (Tune morale sans obligation ni sanction. 
4 The Descent of Man, Part I, chap, iv, p. 116. 
e See chap, ii, § 3 (3). 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 81 

science without having recourse to the supernatural 
or suprasensible. "The faculty," says Martineau, 
"is the communion of God's life and guiding love 
entering and abiding with an apprehensive capacity 
in myself. We encounter an objective authority 
without quitting our own centre of conscience." 1 
" The authority which reveals itself within us, 
reports itself not only as unclerived from our will, 
but as independent of our idiosyncrasies alto- 
gether." 2 Kant likewise discovers in himself this 
feeling or impulse of obligation or authority accom- 
panying certain ideas, and finds that it is expressed 
in language by the imperative mood : Thou shalt, 
Thou shalt not. He abstracts from the content of 
these promptings of conscience that which seems to 
be common to all of them, their authoritative char- 
acter, the feeling of obligation, and makes an entity 
of this abstraction. It is a form of the mind like 
space, time, and causality. But since this form or 
category of obligation is concerned with action or 
practice, Kant calls it a category of the 'practical 
reason, or the will. 3 



1 Types of Ethical Theory, Vol. II, chap, iv, p. 104. 

2 lb., p. 102. 

3 See Shninel, Einleitung in die 3forctlwissenschaft, Vol. I, 
chap. i. Kant, of course, does not regard obligation as a feeling, 
but as a deliverance of the practical reason, or will, thereby evi- 
dently emphasizing the impulsive nature of the feeling of obliga- 
tion. He afterward tries to give this abstract form of oughtness a 
content. He searches for a principle common to acts which are 
accompanied in consciousness by obligation, and finds as the gen- 

G 



82 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

In answer to Kant we may say that the feeling 
or impulse of obligation is no more a category or 
form of the mind than any other feeling. Nor is 
it something outside of my empirical consciousness, 
as I experience it. To say that a feeling of author- 
ity or obligation is present in consciousness, means 
that I feel bound or constrained or obliged to perform 
certain acts. Obligation is not a special category 
or faculty or form of the reason ; it is a psychical 
fact which is never found in consciousness apart 
from other mental states. To say that this feeling 
or impulse is an innate form, does not help us any 
more than to say that the feeling of hope is such a 
form. Of course, hope and fear and love are all 
"innate forms," if we mean by this that human 
beings experience them in connection with certain 
concrete ideas. What we wish to know is what 
modes of conduct are felt to be obligatory, and, if 
possible, why they are felt to be so. 

4. The Feelings of Approval and Disapproval. — 
Some thinkers emphasize this feeling of obligation, 
and regard it as constituting the very essence of the 
moral consciousness, or conscience. But, as we no- 
ticed before, the idea of an act is, or at least may be, 
suffused with feelings of approbation and reproba- 
tion. 1 The contemplation of a deed arouses feelings 

eral characteristic of all obligatory acts their fitness to become uni- 
versal law. See chap, ii, § 7, (1); also chap, vii, § 15. 

1 These feelings, too, like the feeling of obligation, contain 
active or impulsive elements, which express themselves iD bodily 
movements. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 88 

of condemnation, contempt, disgust, abhorrence, in- 
dignation, etc., or feelings of approval, admiration, 
respect, reverence, enthusiasm, etc. Some philoso- 
phers have laid stress on such feelings, and have 
identified them with conscience. The moral-sense 
philosophers : belong to this class, which is very apt 
to overlook the authoritative element in morality. 
JEsthetic feelings may also arise in connection with 
those we have mentioned. I may feel aesthetic 
pleasure in the contemplation of a deed. 2 This 
fact has led some authors to identify the moral 
sentiments with the aesthetic feelings, and to look 
upon ethics as a branch of aesthetics. 3 We must in- 
sist, however, that conscience is a complexus of psy- 
chical states, and that the characteristic emotional 
elements peculiar to it are the feelings of approval 
(or disapproval) and the feeling of obligation or 
authority. 

5. Conscience as Judgment. — But conscience also 
judges, and in so far is cognitive, or intellectual in 
character. Let us see how we come to make moral 
judgments. The perception or thought of an act 
arouses feelings of obligation and feelings of ap- 
proval. We express these feelings in language by 
saying, This act is right and ought to be done. 
We make a moral judgment. The judgment here 
is based on feeling. When I declare an act to be 
right or wrong, I am expressing my feelings with 

i See chap, ii, § 4. 2 See Sully, Human Mind, Vol. II, p. 167. 
8 See Herbart and Volkmann. 



84 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

reference to it. When I say an object is beautiful, 
I am really saying that it arouses certain feelings 
(here called aesthetic) in me. When I assert that 
spitting is indecent, I am giving expression to the 
feelings of disgust aroused in me by a certain act. 
If the so-called moral act and beautiful object and 
indecent behavior did not provoke in me these pecu- 
liar emotional reactions, I should not judge them as 
I do. 

Some philosophers have emphasized the cognitive 
element in conscience, and have, therefore, called it 
the faculty of moral judgment. For them it is not 
an emotional faculty, but a cognitive faculty, a fac- 
ulty that discovers truth. It is the special faculty 
by which we discern moral truth. We may say, 
however, first, that this is not its only function, that 
we must not overlook the characteristic emotional 
and impulsive elements contained in conscience, and 
secondly, that there is no difference between the 
faculty which makes moral judgments (as such) and 
the faculty which makes other judgments. The 
difference lies in the subject-matter judged and the 
mental background (feelings and impulses) which 
gives rise to the judgment. Judgment is judgment, 
whether it be applied in morals, aesthetics, or eti- 
quette. Judgment is a fundamental activity of 
mind involving analysis and synthesis. When I 
say, This house is red, I am analyzing one of my 
presentations, picking out of it a particular quality, 
and predicating this of the original concrete whole 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 85 

which I have just broken up. When I say, This act 
is wrong, I am really analyzing out of the act the 
feelings which it arouses in me, I am stating what 
impression it makes upon my consciousness. 

6. Criticism of Intuitionism. — Some moralists have 
recognized the fact that conscience functions as a 
judging power, and, therefore, speak of it in the 
manner of Calderwood, who says : " Conscience is 
that power of mind by which moral law is discov- 
ered to each individual for the guidance of his 
conduct. It is the reason, as that discovers to us 
absolute moral truth." 1 Cudworth and Clarke 
looked upon such judgments as, Stealing is wrong, 
Murder is wrong, etc., as self-evident and neces- 
sary, and consequently proclaimed them as eternal 
truths, truths of the kind discovered in mathemat- 
ics. Such propositions, they declared, are recognized 
immediately and intuitively ; it is neither necessary 
nor possible to prove them. They are inherent in 
the mind, original possessions of reason, a priori, 
innate. Other writers believe that we immediately 
perceive the rightness and wrongness of acts, that 
as soon as an act is presented to consciousness, we 
perceive its moral worth. To this school belong 
Martineau and Lecky. The rationalistic intuition- 
ists, therefore, hold either that certain moral propo- 
sitions are engraven on the mind, or that we have a 
rational faculty which is bound by its very nature to 

1 Handbook of Moral Philosophy, Part I, chap, iv, p. 77, 12th 
edition. 



86 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

formulate them, while the perceptional intuitionists 
maintain that we have no such universal proposi- 
tions stamped upon the mind or turned out by 
reason, but that we perceive the rightness and 
wrongness of acts and motives immediately upon 
their presentation to consciousness. 

In answer to these schools we may say, among 
other things : (1) Although there is present in the 
moral consciousness an intellectual or cognitive ele- 
ment (call it perception or reason or what you will), 
this is not all there is in it. We must not ignore 
the important emotional and impulsive constituents 
mentioned before. 

(2) We have no such innate knowledge or per- 
ception of moral distinctions as is claimed by ex- 
treme intuitionists. If we did, then all men would 
have to agree in their judgments, which is not the 
case. It will not do to say that the moral law has 
been obscured and eliminated in savage tribes. 1 
We cannot corrupt or eliminate the perception of 
space and time in whole groups of men ; how then 
should it be possible to wipe out the a 'priori moral 
forms ? Kant seems to think that men who are 
apparently without conscience are not actually with- 
out it, but merely disregard its dictates. 2 This is 
undoubtedly true of some men ; but we surely can- 
not claim that whole ages and peoples have known 

1 See Leibniz, New Essays, Bk. I, chap, ii, § 12. 

2 See Abbott's translation, pp. 192, 311, 321, 343 ; also Religion 
innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft, pp. 235, 285. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 87 

the laws of morality as we know them now, and 
have deliberately refused to obey them. But, it 
may be said, though men may differ as to details, 
they surely accept certain fundamental moral prin- 
ciples as self-evident and obligatory. Thus cruelty 
is universally condemned and benevolence approved. 
"It is a psychological fact," says Lecky, 1 "that we 
are intuitively conscious that our benevolent affec- 
tions are superior to our malevolent ones." 2 An- 
thropologists and historians, however, have adduced 
many facts which seem to contradict these state- 
ments, or, at least, to render them doubtful. 3 " Con- 
science," says Burton, " does not exist in Eastern 
Africa, and repentance expresses regret for missed 
opportunities of mortal crime. Robbery constitutes 
an honorable man ; murder — the more atrocious 
the midnight crime the better — makes the hero." 4 
" The Arabian robber," says Burckhardt, " regards 
his occupation as an honorable one, and the term 
haramy (robber) is one of the most nattering titles 
which one can give a young hero." 5 Mr. Galbraith, 
an Indian agent, describes the Sioux as "bigoted, 
barbarous, and exceedingly superstitious. They 

1 History of European Morals, Vol. I, pp. 99 f. 

2 P. Ree gives a long list of writers who agree with this idea in 
his Entstehung des Gewissens, pp. 9, 10, 25-27. 

3 A good resume 1 of such facts is given by Williams, A Beview 
of Evolutional Ethics, pp. 466 ff. ; Ree, pp. 13 ff. ; Spencer, In- 
ductions, pp. 325 ff. See also in this connection Locke's Essay, 
Bk. I, chap. ii. 

4 First Fo'otsteps in Eastern Africa, p. 176. 
6 Wahali, p. 121. 



88 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

regard most of the vices as virtues. Theft, arson, 
rape, and murder are among them regarded as the 
means of distinction ; and the young Indian from 
childhood is taught to regard killing as the highest 
of virtues." 1 "In Tahiti, the missionaries consid- 
ered that no less than two-thirds of the children 
were murdered b}^ their parents." 2 "Indeed, I do 
not remember a single instance in which a savage is 
recorded as having shown any symptoms of remorse ; 
and almost the only case I can recall to mind, in 
which a man belonging to one of the lower races has 
accounted for an act by saying explicitly that it was 
right, was when Mr. Hunt asked a young Fijian 
why he had killed his mother." 3 Darwin does not 
believe that the primitive conscience would reproach 
a man for injuring his enemy. " Rather it would 
reproach him, if he had not revenged himself. To 
do good in return for evil, to love your enemy, is a 
height of morality to which it may be doubted 
whether the social instincts would, by themselves, 
have ever led us. It is necessary that these in- 
stincts, together with sympathy, should have been 
highly cult i vat ed and extended by the aid of reason, 
instruction, and the love or fear of God, before any 
such golden rule would be thought of and obeyed." 4 
(3) We cannot, therefore, prove the innateness of 
conscience by referring to principles that are uni- 

1 Lubbock, Origin of Civilization, pp. 397, 398. 

2 lb. 3 lb., p. 405. 
* The Descent of Man, p. 113 note. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 89 

versally recognized as right. Some moralists grant 
the truth of this statement, but still maintain that 
conscience is innate. It is true, they declare, that 
the moral judgments of mankind diverge, that one 
age or tribe may approve of what another condemns. 
But all times and peoples agree that some form of 
conduct is better, higher, nobler than another, that 
right is better than wrong, that we bow down be- 
fore authority. This is practically the theory 
advocated by the Schoolmen, 1 who held that we have 
an innate faculty, the synderesis, which tells us that 
the right ought to be done and the wrong avoided. 

There is, however, no such faculty as the one 
spoken of here. The proposition, The right ought 
to be done and the wrong avoided, is, like all general 
statements of the kind, the result of abstraction. 
We find by experience that many particular acts are 
accompanied in consciousness by feelings of obliga- 
tion and approval, and that others are associated 
with feelings of disapproval and deterrence. We 
bring these acts under general heads, and call the 
former right, the latter wrong. To say that right 
acts ought to be performed and wrong ones avoided, 
simply means that certain forms of conduct arouse 
feelings of obligation and approval, and others the 
reverse. The proposition, therefore, that we ought 
to do the right and refrain from the wrong, is a 
general expression of the fact that we feel obliged 
to perform certain actions and to refrain from 
i See chap, ii, §3 (1). 



90 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

others ; it is a universal proposition, an inference 
drawn from the facts of experience, not an a 'priori 
judgment of the reason. 

(4) Even if it were true that certain moral judg- 
ments were universally accepted, this would not 
necessarily prove them to be innate. They might 
be the products of universally prevalent conditions. 

(5) Nor can we prove the innateness of conscience 
from " the self-evidence and necessity " of some of 
its deliverances. It is true that such propositions 
as : Stealing is wrong, Murder is wrong, Honesty 
is right, etc., seem necessary and self-evident to us 
children of the nineteenth century. But they may 
be satisfactorily explained without our having re- 
course to the doctrine of nativism, which is, after all, 
merely a confession of ignorance. As we saw before, 
the ideas of certain acts, say of murder and self-sac- 
rifice, are accompanied in consciousness by pecul- 
iar feelings called moral feelings, feelings which are 
lacking when we think of other acts or things. I 
have no such sentiments when I perceive or think of 
a tree or a mountain. Whenever these feelings sur- 
round an idea, we call that for which it stands right 
or wrong. To say that stealing, or any particular 
deed, is wrong, means that the idea of that act is asso- 
ciated in my mind with feelings of disapproval, etc. 
Hence the judgment, Stealing is wrong, is equiva- 
lent to the proposition that an act which is con- 
demned and prohibited is condemned and prohibited. , 
The words, stealing, adultery, robbery, murder, etc.. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 91 

contain everything that is expressed in the predi- 
cate, wrong or bad; they express not only ideas of 
acts, but our attitude toward these acts. The judg- 
ment in question is what Kant would call an analyt- 
ical judgment, i.e., one in which the predicate is but 
a repetition of the subject. Such judgments are 
always necessary and self-evident ; the predicate is 
identical with, or only another way of writing, the 
subject. And when I perceive an act to be right or 
wrong, it is because that act arouses feelings in me 
in consequence of which I approve or disapprove of 
it. 1 

7. Criticism of Emotional Intuitionism. — If all this 
is so, the question concerning the innateness of con- 
science or moral judgment must be formulated in a 
slightly different manner. Are the moral feelings, 
we now ask, which accompany certain ideas, the 
original associates of those ideas? That is, do the 
deeds which we noiv designate as right and wrong 
always arouse, and have the}^ always aroused, in 
the consciousness, the feelings mentioned before? 

We can hardly assert it. One age, or race, or 
nation, or class, or sect, or even individual, may 
regard an act as right which another views with 
indifference or abhorrence. We cannot read without 
a thrill of pain and horror the accounts of gladia- 
torial contests which the purest Roman virgin wit- 
nessed without the slightest moral compunction. 

1 See Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chap v, § 4 ; Ree, Die Entstehung 
des Gewissens. 



92 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

The orthodox Jew is conscience-stricken for hav- 
ing lighted a fire in his house on the Sabbath, the 
Hindoo for having occasioned the death of a cow, 
the Turkish woman for exposing her face. The 
ancient Icelander regarded revenge not merely as 
sweet, but as praiseworthy and honorable, and "it 
most likely had never entered the mind of the Celtic 
chief that robbery merely as robbery was a wicked 
and disgraceful act." 1 

If these feelings of obligation, etc., were the original 
and inseparable associates of certain modes of con- 
duct, we should expect every age and race to pro- 
nounce the same judgments. It would not be possible 
either to add these feelings to certain ideas or to sub- 
tract them from them. We should not be able to 
educate them away, so to speak. The truth is, our 
parents and teachers not only arouse ideas in our 
minds, but also surround these ideas with a moral 
fringe. The words of the language which they teach 
us to understand and to speak, express not only 
thoughts, but values. The terms, murder, robbery, 
theft, benevolence, veracity, sacrifice, stand not merely 
for acts and modes of conduct and dispositions of the 
will, but for our feelings and impulses in reference 
to them. The past transmits to the present its ideas 
with the moral halos encircling them. The present 
frequently changes its values, and so it happens that 
acts which were once associated in consciousness 
with the moral sentiments lose the fringe which once 
1 Macaulay. Quoted by Bain, Emotions and Will, p. 280. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 93 

surrounded them, or arouse new associations. The 
sinner of yesterday becomes the saint of to-morrow. 

8. Genesis of Conscience. — Let us now see how 
the process of moralization goes on. The connec- 
tion between the moral feelings and the ideas of 
certain acts is largely brought about by education. 
Children are made to observe that certain acts do 
not meet with the approval of their surroundings. 
Frowns, austere looks, shakes of the head, stern 
words, and other signs of displeasure precede and 
follow certain modes of conduct. The child impul- 
sively imitates these outward manifestations of dis- 
approval at an early age, and so begins to feel a 
certain kind of uneasiness in connection with certain 
acts himself. He also feels pain and anger when 
certain acts are directed against himself, and instinc- 
tively resents them, or frowns them down. Words 
spoken to him in an authoritative manner by a 
parent or any other superior arouse in his conscious- 
ness feelings of coercion and restraint ; he feels 
instinctively that he must do a certain act or leave 
it undone. 1 

1 See Sully, The Human Mind, Vol. II, pp. 164 f. : "The force 
of a command on a child cannot be wholly attributed to experience 
and prevision of consequences. It shows itself too early, and is 
out of proportion to the range and intensity of the experiences 
of punishment. Here then we have, as it seems, to do with a 
'residual phenomenon,' which we must regard as instinctive. This 
instinctive deference to an uttered command is in part referrible to 
the superior power of external stimuli, or sense-presentations gen- 
erally in our mental life. A command given with emphasis (spe- 
cial loudness and distinctness of tone, accompanied by intent 



94 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

The performance of acts which are frowned down 
and prohibited by direct command is frequently 
followed by consequences of a disagreeable kind, 
natural as well as artificial, and the vague remem- 
brance of these arouses fear and aversion. The 
child also often hears that there are other, mysteri- 
ous beings who will punish him for disobedience, 
and the fear produced by the prospect is all the 
more intense because of the uncertainty and mystery 
of the imagined evil. 1 In the course of time he is 
told that there is a God, and that this God dis- 
approves of and punishes offences. And then the 
instinctive craving for recognition, the desire to be 
well thought of, which may become more and more 
intensified, assists in turning the individual from 
certain kinds of behavior, and attracts him to others. 

look) is the most powerful way of initiating or bringing on the 
corresponding movement (or inhibition of movement). In this 
respect it stands on a level with the actual presentation of an 
action by another, which, as we shall see, has a powerful tendency 
to call forth an imitative response. This force of external verbal 
suggestion, the effect of which we have already seen in the domain 
of normal belief, is illustrated further in the phenomena of hyp- 
notic suggestion, which Guyau has recently brought into an in- 
structive analogy with the moral influence of education. (Guyau 
considers that suggestion sets up in the hypnotized subject a sense 
of 'must,' or of obligation closely analogous to a moral feeling. 
See his volume, Education and Heredity, English translation, 
chap, i.) The natural impulse to comply with commands is, how- 
ever, more than this, and involves a rudiment of regard of what 
others think and say of us as intrinsically valuable, — that is to 
say, what we have dealt with under the head, love of approbation." 
1 The small boy's vague conception of the goblins makes the 
threat that the goblins will get him all the more alarming. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 95 

Afterward, when sympathy develops, love begins to 
play an important part as a motive to action. The 
child's affection for persons around him and the 
God above him makes him anxious to avoid causing 
displeasure. He suffers with others, the thought of 
hurting them hurts him, and deters him from certain 
acts. With the growth of intelligence the agent 
learns to understand the rationale of certain prohi- 
bitions, and is deterred from breaking the law. The 
training begun in the family is continued by the 
school and the world at large. On every hand he 
meets with signs of disapproval and pain, and hears 
the command, Thou shalt not. In this way he learns 
to fear and acknowledge the law. 

The feelings aroused by the disapproval and 
authoritative tones of others, the feeling of pain, 
the fear of punishment, human and divine, the 
fear of losing the good opinion of others, the fear 
of causing injury, directly or indirectly, to himself 
and the beings he loves, form the beginning, in 
the child's consciousness, of that peculiar complexus 
of sentiments which we call moral. In all these 
feelings there is an element of opposition to the acts 
with which they are associated, a kind of aversion, 
a feeling of negation and deterrence, of must not or 
shall not, a feeling which is strongly intensified by 
the combination of the factors we have mentioned. 
In the course of time many of these factors drop out 
of consciousness, and the feeling of opposition and 
deterrence comes to be directly associated with the 



96 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

ideas of acts. The agent feels a check in the pres- 
ence of certain acts without picturing to himself the 
causes which originally produced that feeling. He 
feels a restraint or compulsion which seems to be 
within him, and yet to come from without ; its mys- 
teriousness fills him with awe. When this senti- 
ment surrounds the idea of a deed, he cannot help 
recognizing its binding force over him. All the 
other elements seem to fade out of consciousness, 
leaving behind a kind of abstract obligation and 
disapproval, a feeling of antagonism to the thing 
with whose idea it is connected. 

A similar process takes place with acts that meet 
with approval, and we need not follow it out here. 
These feelings of approval may be intensified into 
feelings of respect, admiration, love, and, where the 
element of mystery enters in, reverence. We ad- 
mire and love good deeds with the same fervor with 
which we love and admire persons ; we reverence 
them as we reverence the gods. We feel constrained 
or obliged to perform acts to which our conscious- 
ness gives a moral value, we recognize their binding 
force. 

In other words, the feelings of resentment, fear, 
etc., which we find connecting themselves with the 
ideas of certain acts in the consciousness of the child, 
gradually develop into the feelings of moral disap- 
proval, deterrence, and their opposites, which we 
discover in the adult. It must not be imagined, 
however, that these feelings are developed in the 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 97 

same degree in all persons. In some the ideas of 
certain acts merely arouse feelings of fear. Many 
persons, I am convinced, feel that they must not do 
certain things on account of the fear of discovery 
and the consequent punishments. 1 Others are afraid 
of the wrath of God or other supernatural powers, 
here and hereafter. Still others are afraid with- 
out knowing exactly what they are afraid of ; the 
thought of certain modes of conduct immediately 
calls up a vague fear, of what they know not. 2 On 
the other hand, there are persons who respect and 
reverence the law, who love duty for duty's sake. 
They feel themselves bound to obey the law, without 
feeling bound to any person or institution ; they 
feel a blind pressure toward the right, without being 
urged by fear to do it. Such characters are not, in 
my opinion, as common as is often believed. They 
are the rigorous moralists, the moral enthusiasts. 
They feel as Kant felt when he said : " Two things 
fill the mind with new and increasing admiration 
and awe, the oftener and more steadily we reflect 
on them : the starry heavens above and the moral law 
within;" 3 and when he wrote his celebrated apos- 

1 " And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him, 
Where art thou ? And he said, I heard thy voice in the garden, 
and I was afraid, because I was naked ; and I hid myself." 

2 Schopenhauer finds in conscience the following ingredients : 
| fear of man, -i superstition, | prejudice, | vanity, | custom. 

3 Kritik of Practical Beason, Part II, Abbott's translation, 
p. 260. Lord Houghton translates these lines as follows : — 

" Two things I contemplate with ceaseless awe : 
The stars of heaven and man's sense of Law." 
n 



98 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

trophe to Duty : " Duty ! Thou sublime and mighty 
name that dost embrace nothing charming or insin- 
uating, but requirest submission, and yet seekest not 
to move the will by aught that would arouse natural 
aversion or terror, but merely boldest forth a law 
which of itself finds entrance into the mind, and 
yet gains reluctant reverence (though not always 
obedience), a law before which all inclinations are 
dumb, even though they secretly counterwork ; 
what origin is worthy of thee, and where is to be 
found the root of thy noble descent?" 1 They feel 
as Wordsworth felt when he composed his Ode to 
Duty : — 

" Stern daughter of the voice of God ! 

O Duty ! if that name thou love 

Who art a light to guide, a rod 

To check the erring, and reprove ; 

Thou, who art victory and law 

When empty terrors overawe ; 

From vain temptation dost set free ; 

And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity." 

We have seen how the moral sentiments, the feel- 
ings of approval and disapproval, and the ought-feel- 
ing, come to be connected with certain forms of con- 
duct in the mind of the individual. 2 We may assume 

1 Kritik of Practical Reason, Part I, chap, in, Abbott's trans- 
lation, p. 180. 

2 I quote from Ladd's Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, 
p. 582 : " The parent, or the nurse, or the teacher, deliberately and 
habitually connects with certain 'doings 'the arousement of the 
ought-feeling and the feeling of approbation ; with certain other 
forms of conduct, in the same way, are connected the opposite 
forms of these ethical sentiments. With all persons, including 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 99 

that they originated somewhat similarly in the race. 
The primitive man, let us say, instinctively resented 
attacks upon himself, and those near to him, and feared 
the painful consequences which injury done to others 
was bound to bring upon him and those for whom he 
cared. In the course of time, with the development 
of society, the fear of personal revenge gave way to 
the fear of the ruler and the State, the fear of the 
wrath of invisible powers, the fear of losing social 
recognition, the fear of causing ideal pain to others. 
Then, perhaps, the feeling of sympathy, which at 
first included only a few in its scope, was extended, 
taking in larger numbers, and became a motive. 
Finally, feelings of respect and reverence for the 
law as law, the feeling of obligation, arose as in the 
case of the individual. If it is true that the develop- 
ment of the individual, or ontogenesis, is a repetition 

those not thus well bred, the social and even the physical environ- 
ment tends to establish a similar connection. But this connection 
implies, in its very possibility, the beginning of a so-called ' moral 
nature ' for the child. All its pleasure-pains may thus come to 
have for it a quasi-moral import. On the basis of this experience 
with its own states of affective consciousness, considered as con- 
nected with deeds of its own will and voluntary courses of conduct, 
the intellect of the child generalizes. Here, however, the greater 
part of the conclusions — such as this is right and that is wrong — 
are accepted as already formed from those older than itself. The 
' freeing ' of the idea of the right from its concrete and sensuous 
clothing, as it were, results in a formation of a more and more 
abstract system of moral principles. Such are statements like the 
following : Truth-telling is right, and lying is wrong • honesty is 
right, and stealing is wrong ; kindness is right, and cruelty is 
wrong, etc." 

L. #f C. 



100 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

of the development of the race, ox phylogenesis, then 
we must imagine that this feeling of obligation is 
a late arrival in the race-consciousness, and not an 
original possession in the sense that it existed in the 
primitive soul. 

9. In what Sense Conscience is Innate. — The in- 
dividual, then, does not know or feel at birth what 
is right and what is wrong ; nor is the feeling of 
obligation immediately aroused in him. He pos- 
sesses, however, many instincts out of which the 
moral sentiments may be said to evolve. Among 
these instincts, which must be regarded as innate, 
may be mentioned: the feeling of resentment, the 
fear of others' resentment, the regard for others' 
opinions, the impulse of imitation, the sympathetic 
regard for others' welfare, the tendency to submit 
to superior powers, or to obey commands. These 
instinctive factors of consciousness form the basis 
of the higher moral feelings ; out of them the latter 
will grow under the proper conditions. If the fact 
that the higher moral feelings are bound to be de- 
veloped in consciousness under suitable conditions 
means that they are innate, then we must subscribe 
to the doctrines of intuitionism. In this sense, how- 
ever, all our feelings, hope, fear, anger, etc., — in- 
deed, everything in consciousness, our capacity for 
language, our capacity for hearing and seeing, — are 
original or innate. But this does not yet prove that 
the moral sentiments are originally connected with 
the ideas of certain forms of conduct. All that we 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 101 

can assert so far is that such feelings may be aroused 
in consciousness, and may be attached to the ideas 
of certain acts. 

Moreover, if the evolutionistic theory is correct in 
its doctrine of inheritance, we may suppose that the 
capacity for feeling approval and obligation is trans- 
mitted by its possessors to succeeding generations. 
Some men seem to be more timid, or cowardly, or 
cruel, or sympathetic by nature than others, which 
means that these impulses are more readily produced 
in them than in others. To say, then, that a man has 
inherited a great respect or reverence for the law, 
would signify that, if he were properly trained, he 
would develop these feelings. In this sense we may 
speak of conscience as an instinct, as some writers do. 
And, furthermore, if it is possible for us to inherit 
a tendency to feel and to think and to act in a cer- 
tain way, why should it not be possible for us to feel 
obligation and approval in connection with certain 
ideas? We inherit not only fear in the abstract, or 
the capacity for fear, but the fear of particular 
things, say of dark places, vermin, etc. 1 If certain 
fixed neural relations are formed between the brain 
processes which stand for particular percepts, and 
those which stand for particular feelings (of fear, 
etc.), and are transmitted from generation to gen- 

1 See James, Psychology, chapter on "Instinct"; Sully, The 
Human Mind, Vol. II, p. 71 ; Ziehen, Introduction to Physi- 
ological Psychology, pp. 244 ff. ; Schneider, Der menschliche Wille, 
p. 224. 



102 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

eration, there is no great reason why such connec- 
tions should not be formed between the paths which 
represent certain acts, like murder, for example, and 
those which are the physiological counterparts of 
the ought-feelings, whatever they may be, and be 
handed down to offspring. This would not mean 
that the child is born with these two psychical 
states together, but it would mean that, under the 
proper conditions and at the proper time, the con- 
nection would be formed more easily than if it had 
not already existed in a long line of ancestors. 1 

1 See Darwin, Descent of Man, pp. 123 f. After quoting that 
part of Spencer's letter to Mill in which Spencer expresses his be- 
lief in the transmission of moral intuitions, Darwin says : " There 
is not the least inherent improbability, as it seems to me, in vir- 
tuous tendencies being more or less strongly inherited ; for, not 
to mention the various dispositions and habits transmitted by 
many of our domestic animals to their offspring, I have he.ard of 
authentic cases in which a desire to steal and a tendency to lie 
appeared to run in families of the upper ranks ; and as stealing is a 
rare crime in the wealthy classes, we can hardly account by acci- 
dental coincidence for the tendency occurring in two or three 
members of the same family. If bad tendencies are transmitted, 
it is probable that good ones are likewise transmitted. That the 
state of the body, by affecting the brain, has great influence on the 
moral tendencies is known to most of those who have suffered 
from chronic derangements of the digestion or liver. The same 
fact is likewise shown by the ' perversion or destruction of the 
moral sense being often one of the earliest symptoms of mental 
derangement' (Maudsley, Body and Blind, 1870, p. 60), and 
insanity is notoriously often inherited. Except through the prin- 
ciple of the transmission of moral tendencies, we cannot under- 
stand the differences believed to exist in this respect between 
the various races of mankind. Even the partial transmission of 
virtuous tendencies would bo an immense assistance to the primary 
impulse derived directly and indirectly from the social instincts. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 103 

Nor would this mean that the connection has 
existed forever and will continue to exist forever, 
that it is inseparable and eternal, or that the same 
combinations exist in all human beings. 

Whether such tendencies to feel bound in the pres- 
ence of certain acts are really inherited, we cannot 
tell positively, but there is nothing improbable in 
the thought. The fact that time and training are 
required to bring out the moral feelings would be 
no argument against the belief. There are many 
instincts in man which do not ripen at once and 
without the proper excitants, and yet we do not 
deny to them their instinctive and innate character. 

Let us sum up : The moral feelings, as we find 
them now, are comparatively late arrivals in the his- 
tory of the individual and the race. They are not 
the original and inseparable companions of any par- 
ticular acts, but may become attached to all forms 
of conduct under suitable conditions. There is 
nothing impossible in the notion that the tendency 
to feel them in connection with certain acts may 

Admitting for a moment that virtuous tendencies are inherited, 
it appears probable, at least in such cases as chastity, temperance, 
humanity to animals, etc., that they become first impressed on the 
mental organization through habit, instruction, and example, con- 
tinued during several generations in the same family, and in a 
quite subordinate degree, or not at all, by the individuals possess- 
ing such virtues having succeeded best in the struggle for life." 
See also Darwin and Spencer in the passages quoted in chap, ii, 
§ 7 (2) and (3) ; Carneri, Grundzuge der Ethik, pp. 348 f. ; Ent- 
wickelung und Daricinismiis, p. 212 ; Williams, Ethics, pp. 402 ff., 
435 ff., 449 ff. ; Sutherland, Moral Instinct, Vol. II, pp. 60 ff. 



104 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

become fixed and habitual, and be transmitted to 
offspring. 

But, the question may be asked, how did the first 
man who ever felt obligation, etc., come to feel that 
way ? What is the first origin of the feeling ? 
Even if we should maintain that it is a form of vague 
fear, we should still have to inquire, Whence did it 
spring ? It is as hard to solve this problem as it is 
to solve the problem of first beginnings in general. 
How did any feeling, or in fact anything, originally 
arise ? We do not know. We do not know how 
consciousness arose, or, indeed, how it arises every 
day in new human beings, or how one thought 
springs from the other. We think and feel and 
will, and think and feel and will about our own 
thinking, feeling, and willing ; but how all that is 
possible we are utterly at a loss to understand. I 
can explain to you the antecedent and concomitant 
processes, both physical and mental, which go with 
certain ideas and feelings and volitions, but if you 
ask me how such a state as a conscious process is 
possible at all, I must remain silent. I know that 
consciousness is ; what it is in the last analysis, and 
how it came to be, I cannot tell. We have reached 
the confines of our science at this point. Here the 
moralist must take leave of you, and hand you over to 
the tender mercies of the theologian or metaphy- 
sician. Did God create the feeling of obligation ? 
Well, if He created you, He created all of you, and 
there is no need of singling out one particular feel- 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 105 

ing. Is the feeling of obligation the self-imposed 
law of your own personality ? Yes, in the sense 
that you are your feeling of obligation, that the 
feeling is not outside of you, something standing 
over and against you, but in you and of you. 

10. The Infallibility and Immediacy of Conscience. 
— After the foregoing, it will not be difficult to dis- 
cover our attitude toward several questions which 
are frequently asked with respect to the conscience. 
Is conscience infallible ? Kant calls an erring con- 
science " a chimera." 1 Before we can answer this 
question we must understand its meaning. If all 
such acts are right as are preceded by the feeling of 
obligation, i.e., if the criterion of their goodness is 
the fact that they are dictated by conscience, then, 
of course, whatever conscience tells me is right, is 
right, and to say that conscience errs, is to contra- 
dict oneself. " An erring conscience " is, indeed, 
" a chimera," if conscience is the sole criterion of 
the rightness and wrongness of acts. 

But we notice that the popular consciousness 
often condemns acts which have the approval of an 
individual conscience, and that history frequently 
reverses its judgments. It would appear from this 
that a mistake has been made somewhere, and that 
there is perhaps a principle by which we judge even 
the dictates of an individual conscience. If it is 
true, as some hold, that the goodness of acts ulti- 
mately depends upon the effects which they tend to 
1 Abbott's translation, p. 311. 



106 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

produce, and if it is true that the feeling of obliga- 
tion may be connected with the ideas of acts which 
do not produce such effects, then an erring con- 
science is not a chimera. Ignorance, inexperience, 
and superstition may cause acts to be clothed with 
the authority of the law which succeeding genera- 
tions may stamp with their disapproval. Then 
again, conditions may change and make new evalua- 
tions necessary. The conscience of the race repre- 
sents the experience of the race, and grows as the 
latter grows. Bat the race conscience develops 
slowly, and may be outstripped by the individual 
conscience. An individual conscience may be in 
advance of its age ; it may feel bound to forms of 
conduct which the future will adopt. Every great 
moral reformer who has been persecuted for con- 
science' sake was in advance of his times. 1 

Can conscience be educated? If our standpoint 
is correct, it can. Indeed, a man's conscience is 
largely the product of education, as we noticed be- 
fore. Our teachers, past and present, surround the 
ideas of certain acts with moral feelings, and so 
educate us into morality. Even if we regard con- 
science as a form of obligation without regard to 
content, we must hold that its existence depends on 
training. The feeling of obligation will not appear 
unless consciousness as a whole is developed. 

Does conscience immediately tell us what is right 
and wrong ? Not in every instance. A member of 
1 See Paulsen, Ethics, pp. 357 ff. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 107 

our civilization cannot help disapproving of certain 
acts immediately, the wrongfulness of which has 
been impressed upon him from childhood. But 
there are many courses of conduct which baffle many 
consciences. We are sometimes in doubt as to what 
would really be the dutiful course to pursue, until 
we can bring the case under a general formula. 
The success with which a person judges the moral 
worth of an act will often depend upon his ability to 
refer it to a class concerning which there is no 
doubt. 

11. Conscience and Inclination. — Another point 
deserves to be considered. Kant teaches that such 
acts are moral as are done from a sense of duty, from 
a respect for the moral law. Acts which are done 
from inclination have no moral worth. If you do 
good from a love of it, there is no merit in your act. 
If you delight in being kind to others, and help 
them because you love them, you are not moral. If, 
however, you have no such inclination, or if you 
have an antipathy against doing it, and still aid 
others from a sense of duty, then you are moral. 1 

Of course, in a matter of this kind everything 
depends upon one's standpoint. If the criterion of 
morality is the sense of duty, or obligation, then, to 
be sure, no act can be moral that is not prompted by 
reverence for the law. But it is begging the entire 
question to insist upon this thesis. Do we really 
call only such acts moral as are held by Kant to be 
1 See Kant's MetaphysiTc der Sitten. 



108 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

moral ? If we do, we must regard as moral the 
murderer who acts from a sense of duty. No, Kant 
would object, you cannot call the murderer moral, 
nor can he call himself moral, because he cannot 
will that his conduct become universal law. Well, 
we ask, why not ? Why cannot he will that the 
killing of tyrants become universal, so long as it is 
prompted by a sense of duty ? Besides, Kant here 
introduces a new principle or criterion : the fitness 
of the act to become a universal maxim. First he 
says that an act is moral when it is prompted by the 
sense of duty, then he tells me to " act only on that 
maxim whereby thou canst at the same time will 
that it should become a universal law." If he ad- 
heres to the first proposition, the murderer is moral ; 
if to the second, then the sense of duty is not the 
criterion ; if to both, we have either a contradiction 
or two criteria which must be harmonized in some 
way. 1 

The main thing, it seems to me, is that a man do 
the right. Now, if he does it from inclination, 
because he loves to do it, why should he not be 
adjudged moral ? Spencer believes that the time 
will come when the sense of duty or moral obliga- 
tion will pass away. " The observation is not infre- 
quent," he says, "that persistence in performing a 

1 For criticism of the Kantian view, see Paulsen, Ethics, pp. 
350 ft*.; Janet, Theory of Morals, Bk. Ill, chap, v ; Mackenzie, 
Manual of Ethics, chap, iv ; Muirhead, Elements of Ethics, § 56 ; 
Bradley, Ethical Studies, IV. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 109 

duty ends in making it a pleasure ; and this amounts 
to the admission that, while at first the motive con- 
tains an element of coercion, at last this element of 
coercion dies out, and the act is performed without 
any consciousness of being obliged to perform it." 1 
It is evident, then, that " that element in the moral 
consciousness which is expressed by the word obliga- 
tion will disappear." However this may be, I see 
no reason why a man should be called non-moral 
because he loves to do the right. 

Of course, the feeling of obligation, the feeling 
that an act ought to be performed, will be a great 
incentive to the doing of it, and possibly owes its ex- 
istence to this fact. A man in whom this sentiment 
is very strong will do the right in the face of the 
strongest temptations, provided, of course, the feeling 
is connected with right actions. It is an excellent 
reenforcer of morality ; it pushes itself in between 
the desire to violate the law and the desire to obey 1/ 
it, and helps the latter to gain the victory. Human- 
ity instinctively recognizes this truth. In times of 
moral degeneracy, reformers point out the danger 
of listening to the seductive voice of inclination, 
and appeal to the sense of duty. It is also to be 
observed that we love conflict, and admire the man 
who struggles. There is nothing dramatic in an 

1 Data of Ethics, p. 128. Aristotle, Ethics, Bk. I, chap, x : 
"For it may be added that a person is not good if he does not take 
delight in noble actions, as nobody would call a person just if he 
did not take delight in just actions, ' ' etc. 



110 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

even, quiet life that is free from storms of passion 
and temptation. But the sense of duty does not 
play the role in life which moralists of Kant's 
pietistic training assign to it. Life is not a con- 
tinuous conflict between our inclinations, desires, 
or impulses, and the sense of duty. If it were, it 
would soon consume itself. Men do not do every- 
thing from a sense of duty, or because they feel that 
they must. Men are trained to righteousness, and 
then act from force of habit. Where the training 
is complete, character is formed, and acts follow 
from character. The conflicts which Kant regards 
as forming the very essence of character are rare 
in a healthy moral life. A good man does not have 
to call out the inner police force every time he acts. 
An appeal to authority is not always necessary in 
his case. The "thou shaft" is superseded by the 
"I will," and the rule of law gives way to the 
rule of love. 1 

Many men form ideals of conduct, that is, reach 
certain general principles, which aim to give their 
life a unity. The ideal is like the flag that leads 
the hosts to battle. It may be followed for many 
reasons, from love, or from a sense of obligation, or 

1 See Spencer, Inductions, p. 338 ; Miinsterberg, Ursprung 
der SiUlichkeit, last chapter; Wundt, Ethik, Part III, chap, iii: 
" Whereas a moral law which demands that the good be done 
without inclination, i.e., without motives, asks more than can be 
accomplished, it is, on the contrary, the genuine mark of the 
mature character to perform the moral act, without deliberation, 
from pure inclination." 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 111 

from force of habit. I compare my acts with this 
ideal and may feel obliged to perform those agreeing 
with it, or I may do them from love. Often a line 
of reasoning is required to discover the acts which 
are necessary to the realization of my ideal. 

12. The Historical Vieiv and Morality. — In conclu- 
sion, I should like to consider an objection which is 
frequently urged against the historical view of con- 
science by those who regard the moral faculty as of 
supernatural origin. They hold that to deny the 
supernatural character of conscience is to rob it of its 
sacredness and authority. When we know that and 
how a thing has originated, we are apt to lose respect 
for it. The knowledge that conscience is not a 
descendant of the gods, but an earth-born child, a 
plebeian, so to speak, deprives it of the respect neces- 
sary to make it effective, and renders it less awehil 
than before. Hence, these persons hold, the historical 
view of conscience is dangerous to morality. 1 

We reply : (1) Even if all this were so, it would 
not affect the truth of the teaching. Truth is one 
thing, expediency another. 

(2) But why should the belief that conscience 
is a child of nature and not the direct voice of God 
make us lose respect for morality ? If I believe in 
God and believe that He is a good God, I shall surely 

1 Even Guyau, an evolutionist, is of the same opinion: "The 
scientific spirit," he says, " is the enemy of all instinct ; it tends to 
destroy the sense of obligation on which instinct is based. Every 
instinct disappears upon consciousness." 



112 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

believe that He is in favor of the law, that it is His 
will that I obey the law. And what is to hinder me 
from believing that His voice speaks in the experi- 
ence of the race, that the voice of the people is the 
voice of God in moral matters, that mankind ulti- 
mately hit upon the right and transmit their knowl- 
edge from generation to generation? When the 
theory of evolution first appeared, it was attacked 
as dangerous to morality and religion, on the ground 
that if man grew out of simple beginnings and was 
not directly created by God, then there would be no 
need of a God. We are coming to understand, 
however, that even if the evolutionistic hypothesis 
should be true, God could still reign. Why could 
not God, instead of having made man out of clay 
and having breathed the breath of life into his 
nostrils, have created simple elements from which 
a being like man eventually had to evolve? The 
latter belief is surely as reasonable as the former. 
And so, too, why can we not believe, if we wish, 
that God made a universe which was bound to pro- 
duce a human consciousness and a human con- 
science ? Why should not God let soul-life grow 
as He lets plant-life grow, and why should we not 
admire a conscience that has been produced natu- 
rally as much as we admire other products of 
nature ? 

(3) Even if an insight into the origin of the 
ought-feeling could lead to the elimination of the 
feeling, would that mean the overthrow of morality ? 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 113 

I do not believe it. If the habitual performance of 
good deeds ends in their being done joyfully, why 
should not a person learn to do the right because 
he loves to do it? And if he can do it from love, 
why should the loss of the sense of duty mean the 
defeat of all righteousness? Moreover, the man 
who is intelligent enough to understand the argu- 
ments which make for the historical view, will, at 
the same time, be intelligent enough to see that 
morality serves a purpose in the world, that the 
rules of conduct are not mere arbitrary commands, 
but that they represent the necessary means of 
human existence. And if he believes that, why 
should he despise morality ? Nay, would he not 
be more inclined to uphold the right than before? 
I believe that the race could not exist without 
morality, I believe that I could not live and grow 
in an environment in which the laws of morality 
are constantly broken, I believe that the universe 
is so arranged that immorality cannot thrive in it in 
the long run, — then why should I become immoral 
simply because I have discovered that the voice 
within me which urges me in the direction of the 
right was not made in a day and that it will tell me 
better things as the world rolls on? 1 

1 Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics : " The Utilitarian must repudiate 
altogether that temper of rebellion against the established morality, 
as something purely external and conventional, into which the re- 
flective mind is always apt to fall when it is first convinced that its 
rules are not intrinsically reasonable. He must, of course, also repu- 
diate as superstitious that awe of it as an absolute or Divine code 
i 



114 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

(4) There are no a 'priori reasons why a person 
who understands the genesis of his moral nature 
should lose it. Nor do the facts, which after all 
furnish the most important testimony, prove that 
such is the case. I do not believe that the advo- 
cates of the historical theory, men like the Mills, 
Darwin, Spencer, Wundt, Hoffding, and Paulsen, 
are less moral than Kant and Martineau. An in- 
sight into its genesis no more destroys conscience 
than an understanding of the psychology of courage 
makes a man cowardly, or a knowledge of the con- 
ditions of sight and hearing makes a man blind and 
deaf. It is not an easy thing to break down the 
training of a lifetime. 1 It would require system- 
atic efforts to loosen the association between the 



which intuitional moralists inculcate. (At the same time this 
sentiment, which Kant, among others, has expressed with peculiar 
force, is in no way incompatible with Utilitarianism : only it must 
not attach itself to any subordinate rules of conduct.) Still, he 
will naturally contemplate it with reverence and wonder, as a 
marvellous product of nature, the result of long centuries of 
growth, showing in many parts the same fine adaptation of means 
to complex exigencies as the most elaborate structures of physical 
organisms exhibit : he will handle it with respectful delicacy as a 
mechanism, constructed of the fluid element of opinions and dispo- 
sitions, by the indispensable aid of which the actual quantum 
of human happiness is continually being produced, a mechanism 
which no 'politicians or philosophers' could create, yet without 
which the harder and coarser machinery of Positive Law could not 
be permanently maintained, and the life of man would become — 
as Hobbes forcibly expresses it — 'solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, 
and short.' " 

1 See TurgSnev's novels, Xciv ; Fathers and Sons; and Dos- 
toie .ski's Crime and Punishment. 



ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 115 

ideas of certain modes of conduct and the moral 
sentiments. Why should the philosopher who un- 
derstands the utility of these feelings attempt to 
eradicate them? Nay, will he not rather seek to 
develop and to strengthen them, to attach them 
to forms of conduct which his growing intelligence 
finds to be the best? 

Our philosophical and theological beliefs have, as 
Paulsen points out, much less influence on our 
actions than is commonly supposed. Many men 
who honestly believe in conscience as the voice of 
God, and who believe that there is a future life in 
which the just will be rewarded and the unjust pun- 
ished, act as though they had neither conscience 
nor fear of hell. Conduct depends upon character, 
character depends upon impulses, feelings, and ideas 
together, not on ideas alone. Train a child properly, 
work moral habits into his very nature, arouse in 
him a fellow-feeling for all mankind, and you may 
turn him loose upon the world without fear. If, 
however, you tell him that he must obey the moral 
law simply because it is God's will, and for no other 
reason, then, if he ever loses his faith in God, his 
morality will be without support, and he will dis- 
regard the law simply to prove his freedom and 
enlightenment. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE ULTIMATE GROUND OF MORAL DISTINCTIONS 1 

1. Conscience as the Standard. — Our first ques- 
tion was, Why do men judge or evaluate as they 
do in morals? Why do they call acts right and 
wrong ? We answered this question psychologi- 
cally, that is, we pointed out the psychical states 
upon which moral judgment depends. We found 
that certain feelings cluster around certain ideas of 
acts, and that it is in virtue of these feelings that 
we pronounce moral judgments. We embraced all 
these mental conditions of moral judgment under 
the term conscience, and declared that men judge as 
they do because they have a conscience. We also 
examined the views of the different schools with 
regard to the innateness of conscience, and came to 
the conclusion that conscience is neither original 
in the human soul in the sense in which the intu- 
itionists take it, nor the product of individual expe- 
rience, as their opponents hold, but that there is an 
element of truth in both schools. We agreed with 
the former in saying that conscience is an intuition, 
with the latter, that it has an origin and development. 

But we are not yet satisfied with the results which 
we have reached. Men judge as they do because 

1 See references under chap. v. 
116 



THE CRITERION OF MORALITY 117 

they have a conscience. They call an act right or 
wrong because conscience tells them so. But, we 
ask, why does conscience tell them so? Why do 
the feelings of approval (and disapproval) and the 
ought-feeling surround the ideas of certain acts? 
Because our parents and teachers, present and past, 
have made the connection for us? But who made 
the connection for them? What is the principle 
which originally governed the process? What is 
the ultimate reason or ground why certain acts are 
judged as they are judged? In other words, what 
is the ultimate ground of moral distinctions, why is 
right right, and wrong wrong? What in the last 
analysis makes it right or wrong ? Why is it right 
to tell the truth, and wrong to lie and steal ? 

2. The Theological View. — Simply because God 
has willed it, answers one school, which was founded 
by the mediaeval schoolmen, Duns Scotus and Will- 
iam Occam. God has made the connection spoken 
of before. Stealing and lying are wrong because 
God has arbitrarily decreed them to be so. Had 
He, as He might and could have done, declared them 
to be right, then stealing and lying would be right. 
" God does not require actions because they are 
good," says the old schoolman Gerson, "but they 
are good because He requires them ; just as others 
are evil because He forbids them." 1 We might, if we 
chose, call this the theological school. 

1 See Janet, Theory of Morals, translated by M. Chapman, 
p. 167 ; Lecky, History of European Morals, pp. 17 ff. According 



118 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

3. The Popular View. — No, says another class of 
thinkers, an act is right or wrong intrinsically. It 
is absurd to ask why lying and stealing are wrong. 
Moral truths are as self-evident as the axioms of 
geometry. We might as well ask why twice two 
are four as ask why stealing is wrong. The ethical 
rules are absolutely true, they are necessary truths ; 
we cannot possibly withhold our assent from them, 
and yet we cannot prove them. And as God is 
bound by the truths of mathematics and cannot 
make twice two anything but four, so He is bound 
by the moral law and cannot make stealing right. 1 
An act is right or wrong because conscience tells 
me so, and conscience tells me so because it is so. 
Behind the dicta of conscience we cannot go. 2 Let 
us call this school the popular or common-sense school. 

4. The Teleological Vieiv. — But the scientific in- 
stinct is too strong in man to be silenced by such 
dogmatic assertions as the foregoing. The philo- 
sophical thinker demands reasons, and is not to be 
put off with words. He is apt to begin at the very 
point where the popular mind abandons the search 
as useless or impossible. We desire to know why 
an act is right, what makes it right, and receive the 
dogmatic reply that it is right in itself, that it is 
absolutely right, that there is no reason for its being 

to Descartes, the will of God makes all moral distinctions ; He could 
make good bad. See his Meditations, "Answer to the Sixth 
Objection." 

1 See Thomas Aquinas and his school. 

2 See the rational intuitionists discussed in chap ii, § 3. 



THE CRITERION OF MORALITY 119 

right beyond the fact that conscience dictates it, or 
that it is right because God wills it : car tel est 
son bon plaisir ! Now we are willing to admit that 
conscience dictates it, and that what conscience dic- 
tates is for the time being right. And we are also 
willing to admit that it is the will of God. But we 
would know why conscience speaks as it does, what 
has guided it in its deliverances, what is the prin- 
ciple or criterion or standard underlying its judg- 
ments. There must be some ultimate ground for 
the distinctions which it makes. And if God made 
right right and wrong wrong, we would know why 
He did it, why He made stealing wrong, what reason 
He had for doing it, what purpose He had in view 
when He willed it. Wherever we find an instinct 
we investigate and seek to explain it, to discover its 
raison d'etre if it has any. I ask, Why do we eat 
and drink and sleep ; and you tell me with a con- 
temptuous smile, Because we are hungry and thirsty 
and tired, which, though perfectly true, does not 
answer my question at all. I desire to know the 
raison d'etre of eating and drinking and sleeping, 
the purposes aimed at and realized by these func- 
tions, the principles on which they rest. 

5. Arguments for Teleology. — Let us see whether 
we cannot find a reason for our question, What is 
the ultimate ground of moral distinctions? Why 
is it right to tell the truth, and wrong to lie and 
steal? The following reflections may suggest the 
answer : — 



120 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

(1) Every willed action has some end in view. 
We desire to realize a purpose. Indeed, all action 
tends to realize an end or purpose, even instinctive 
and automatic action. It lies in the very nature of 
things that acts and motives should produce results. 
Now if human conduct is willed by man, and if the 
will always aims at results, it is to be supposed that 
moral conduct aims at results, that it realizes ends 
or purposes which are desired by man. And we 
should not go far amiss in saying that these results 
or effects are the raison d'etre, the reason for exist- 
ence, of moral conduct. 

(2) When we reflect upon the modes of conduct 
which our age calls right and wrong, we find that 
those which are called right or good uniformly pro- 
duce effects different from those which are called 
wrong or bad, and that the effects of the former 
are preferred, desired, and approved, while the 
effects of the latter are disliked and disapproved. 
Falsehood, calumny, theft, treachery, murder, etc., 
produce results which we call pernicious and evil ; 
truthfulness, honesty, loyalty, benevolence, justice, 
produce consequences of a beneficial nature. The 
universe is so arranged that certain acts are bound 
to have certain effects, and human nature is so con- 
stituted that some effects are desired and others 
hated. The act of murder carries countless evils 
in its train : the destruction of the victim and his 
life's hopes, feelings of grief and desires for revenge 
in the hearts of the related survivors, general sorrow 



THE CRITERION OF MORALITY 121 

and a feeling of insecurity in the entire community. 
The family of the murdered man may also suffer ma- 
terial loss by the removal of their supporter, while 
other circles are indirectly affected by their misfor- 
tune. The murderer himself cannot live the life 
of peace and security which he enjoyed before the 
crime. He has drawn upon himself the wrath of 
his fellows, not to speak of the legal punishment 
which may stare him in the face. The mark of 
Cain is upon him, the blood of his victim cries for 
revenge, men fear him and hate him, and he fears 
and hates them in return. Such and many kindred 
effects are bound to follow the commission of crime 
even in the most primitive state of society. And 
it would be impossible for men to live together in 
a community in which acts having such effects were 
habitually practised. A society cannot thrive whose 
members lie and steal and commit murder and other- 
wise disregard each other, in which the wicked are 
not punished and wrongs redressed, in which even 
thieves and rascals fall out. Now would it not be 
safe to assume that these effects, both internal and 
external, are the significant thing in morals ? 

(3) We also notice that whenever our conscience 
leaves us in the lurch, and fails to indicate the proper 
course to pursue, we frequently attempt to reason 
about our conduct. What, we ask ourselves, would 
be the effect of such and such an act upon ourselves 
and others and society at large ? I may fully approve 
of a line of action which I have been pursuing and 



122 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

which everybody else commends, until some day 
it dawns upon me that my behavior is bound to 
harm myself and others, in which case I alter my 
judgment. And in urging others to be moral we 
frequently point out to them the effects which 
accompany both right- and wrong-doing. We seem 
to be anxious to justify the law by its effects. 
Saint Paul says : " If thy brother be grieved with 
thy meat, now walkest thou not charitably. Destroy 
not him with thy meat, for whom Christ died." 
" It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, 
nor anything whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is 
offended or is made weak." x That is, do not do cer- 
tain things because of the effect of your example. 
We also often try to influence children, who do not 
always see into the so-called self-evidence of the 
moral law, by showing them the effects of right 
and wrong. Moreover, we are sometimes advised 
to do right on the ground that God wills our good, 
and that this is realized by the moral law. 

(4) When we study the morality of different 
races and ages, we observe that certain modes of 
conduct are insisted on which are especially adapted 
to the conditions, both inner and outer, of the times. 
Where men dwell together in families or clans, and 
care only for those related to them, the chief con- 
cern seems to be to ward off the attacks of other 
families and tribes. In such a state blood-revenge 
is a sacred duty, and disloyalty to the clan a heinous 
1 Bomans, xiv, 14-23. 



THE CRITERION OF MORALITY 123 

crime. In societies of a larger growth surrounded 
by warlike neighbors, obedience to authority and 
martial courage are the highest virtues. Such acts 
are commanded and judged as moral which enable 
the community to live and to maintain and increase 
its possessions. Whatever hinders it from realizing 
this purpose is condemned. Child murder is often 
looked upon as legitimate where additions to the 
membership of the tribe are regarded as dangerous 
to its welfare. Aged adults are killed without com- 
punction when their presence becomes a burden. 
Sickly infants and some of the female offspring are 
put to death or exposed lest the} r hamper the tribe 
in the struggle for life. For the ancient Greek as 
well as the ancient Hebrew, the strength of the 
State was the all-important thing. The moral code 
of such peoples embraces forms of conduct which we 
shudder at, but which will be found, upon investi- 
gation of all the conditions, to have had their rea- 
son for existence. Men like Socrates, Plato, and 
Aristotle, whom we may surely regard as high 
types of Grecian morality, regarded as right and 
proper customs which we condemn, but which 
seemed to them essential to the existence of the 
State. 1 Plato speaks of the exposure of children 
with as little concern as we should feel at the kill- 



1 See Plato's Bepublic; Aristotle's Politics; Mahaffy, Social 
Life in Greece; Spencer, Inductions of Ethics ; Ree, Entstehung 
des Gewissens ; Williams, A Beview of Evolutional Ethics ; Suth- 
erland, The Origin and Groivth of the Moral Instinct. 



124 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

ing of a dog. Aristotle justifies slavery on the 
ground of its necessity, and jestingly declares that 
slavery will be abolished as soon as the shuttle- 
cocks in the looms begin to move themselves. 

(5) When we investigate the subject-matter of 
the moral law, we notice certain discrepancies 
which cannot be explained except on the theory 
that the effect of the act is the important thing. 
The law says, Thou shalt not kill either thyself or 
other human beings. It is wrong to take human 
life. And yet according to the popular conscience 
the State has the right to execute criminals, and an 
individual may kill a fellow in self-defence. Nor is 
killing in war regarded as reprehensible. It is right 
for a nation to defend itself when attacked, or to 
attack another nation that is meditating its destruc- 
tion. Suicide is generally condemned as wrong, and 
yet we do not blame Arnold von Winkelried, who 
gathered to his breast the spear-points of the enemy 
in order to open a path for his followers. 

The law says, Thou shalt not lie. But we do not 
find fault with the physician for deceiving his 
patients for their own good, nor with the general 
for deluding the enemy, nor with the officer of the 
law for not always telling the truth to the murderer 
whom he wishes to entrap. 

In all these cases modes of conduct are prohibited 
which have certain harmful effects. They all repre- 
sent forms of action which endanger life. And yet 
these same modes of conduct are allowed in certain 



THE CRITERION OE MORALITY 125 

instances ; apparently because the usual results 
attendant upon them do not appear, or because an 
insistence upon their performance would have still 
more serious consequences than the abrogation of 
the law. 

From the above, it seems to me, we may safely 
infer that the ultimate ground of moral distinctions 
lies in the effects which acts tend to produce. Such 
acts as actually tend or are believed to produce con- 
sequences desired by mankind come to be regarded 
as good or right, and are enjoined as duties, while 
their opposites are condemned and prohibited. The 
effect or end or purpose which an act tends to real- 
ize must, in the last analysis, be what gives to it its 
moral worth. It must be this end or purpose which, 
in some way or another, has prompted man to eval- 
uate as he does. This it must be which constitutes 
the ground or principle or standard or criterion of 
moral codes. In other words, morality is a means to 
an end ; its utility or purposiveness is its standard. 

6. Teleological Schools. — Let us call this view, 
which regards the utility or purposiveness or tele- 
ology (from the Greek word, reXo?, telos, end, pur- 
pose) of morality as its ground, the teleological 
view. 1 According to it such acts are good or right 

1 The Latin word for useful is utilis. We might therefore call 
the school which regards the utility of conduct as the criterion of 
its moral worth, the utilitarian school. But, as we shall see later 
on, this term has been appropriated by a particular branch or 
phase of the school. To avoid confusion, therefore, we shall follow 
the usage introduced by Paulsen, and employ the term teleological. 



126 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

as tend to produce certain results or effects, or to 
realize a certain end. Here the question naturally 
arises, What is the end or purpose which morality 
realizes or seeks to realize ? Different answers have 
been given : — 

(1) Morality conduces to pleasure or happiness ; 
it is the pleasure-giving quality of an act that makes 
it good. The Greek word for pleasure is rjSovr) 
(hedone). Hence we may call this view the pleas- 
ure-theory, or hedonism. 1 It declares that acts are 
good or bad according as they tend to produce 
pleasure or pain. 

But, we ask, Pleasure for whom? My pleasure 
or your pleasure ? (a) Mine, say some. Acts are 
good or bad because they tend to make me happy or 
unhappy. This is egoistic (from Greek €70), Latin 
ego = Y), or individualistic hedonism. 

(5) No, say others, acts are good or bad according 
as they tend to give pleasure or pain to others. This 
is heteristic (erepos, heteros, other) or altruistic (Latin 
alter, other), or universalistic hedonism. 2 

(2) According to other teleologists, the principle 

1 The Greek word for happiness is evbaifxovla (eudcemonia). 
Hence the theory is often called eudcemonism. 

2 Called by John Stuart Mill utilitarianism. Mill's utilitarian- 
ism is universalistic hedonism. He applies the general, or generic, 
term to a particular species, and identifies utilitarianism with a 
particular phase of it. It is for this reason, as we stated before, 
that we prefer to use the term teleology. The term utilitarianism, 
owing to Mill's use of it, means, in most persons' minds, univer- 
salistic hedonism, which, of course, is not the only possible teleo- 
logical school. 



THE CRITERION OF MORALITY 127 

of morality is not pleasure or happiness, but the 
preservation of life, " virtuous activity," welfare, 
development, progress, perfection, realization. We 
might call the adherents of this school anti-hedonists, 
or according to their more positive tenets, vitalists 
(vita, life), perfectionists, realizationists, or ener gists. 1 
The energists or perfectionists hold that acts are 
good which tend to preserve and develop human life. 
We may have here, as above : (a) egoistic or indi- 
vidualistic energism ; and (7>) altruistic or univer- 
salistic energism. According to the former, the end 
of morality is the preservation and development of 
individual life ; according to the latter, of the life 
of the species. 

7. Summary. — The following table attempts to 
summarize the views mentioned in this chapter 2 : — 

1 A term employed by Paulsen, derived from the Greek ivtpyeca 
(energeia), energy, work, action. The advocates of this view are 
also called eudtemonists by some. The word eudoemonia means 
happiness, but for Aristotle and others happiness is identical with 
virtuous activity. The different senses in which this word eudce- 
monia is used by different writers often causes confusion. 

2 These views are by no means, as is usually supposed, neces- 
sarily antagonistic to each other. The statements, An act is 
right or wrong because conscience tells me so, and An act is 
right or wrong because of the effects it tends to produce, do not 
necessarily exclude each other. They can both be true. Similarly, 
the statements, An act is right or wrong because God wills it to 
be so, and An act is right or wrong because conscience tells me 
so, and An act is right or wrong because its effects make it so, 
can be easily harmonized. See chap, v, §§ 1, 11, 12. 



128 



INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 



What makes an Act Right 
1 


or Wrong ? 


1 1 
The Theological The Common-sense The Teh ological 

School School School 
The will of God Conscience The effect of the act 
1 1 


1 
The will of God, and the 
inherent goodness or 


1 1 
What is the effect? 

1 


badness of the act 


1 

Pleasure 

(Hedonism) 


Perfection 

(Energism) 

1 


1 1 
Whose pleasure ? 

1 


Whose perfection ? 


Of self Of others 

(Egoistic (Altruistic 

hedonism) hedonism) 

1 1 


Of self Of others 

(Egoistic (Altruistic 

energism) energism) 

1 1 


1 
Of self and others 


Of self and others 
1 



Theologico-Teleological School : An act is good or bad because 
God wills it, and God wills it because of its effects. 



CHAPTER V 

THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 1 

Before attempting to discuss the problems sug- 
gested in the last chapter, let us examine a little 
more carefully our fundamental thesis that the 
moral worth of acts ultimately depends upon the 
effects which they naturally tend to produce, and 
consider some objections which may be urged 
against it. 

1. Conscience and Teleology. — When we say that 
the end which morality subserves is its ground or 
reason for being, we do not mean to imply that the 
agent always has the end or purpose clearly in 

1 Advocates of the Teleological View : Aristotle, Nicomachean 
Ethics ; Butler, Sermons upon Human Nature ; Hutcheson, Inquiry 
into the Original of Our Ideas of Virtue and Beauty ; Hume, Inquiry 
concerning the Principles of Morals ; Paley, 3Ioral Philosophy ; 
Mill, Utilitarianism, chap, ii ; Spencer, Data of Ethics, chaps, i- 
ifi ; Stephen, Science of Ethics, chaps, iv-v ; Hoffding, Ethik, chap, 
vii; Jhering, Der Zweck im Becht, Vol. II, pp. 95 ff. ; Wundt, 
Ethics, Part III, chaps, ii-iv; Paulsen, Ethics, pp. 222 ff.; Suther- 
land, The Moral Instinct, especially Vol. II, pp. 32 ff. ; and all the 
thinkers mentioned in next two chapters. Opponents of the Tele- 
ological View : Kant, Metaphysik der Sitten, Abbott's translation, 
pp. 9 ff. ; Lecky, History of European Morals, chap, i ; Bradley, 
Ethical Studies; Martineau, Types, Vol. II; Spencer, Social Stat- 
ics, first edition. 

k 129 



130 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

view. 1 We have already pointed out in our chapter 
on conscience that he pronounces judgment upon 
an act immediately or instinctively, so to speak, that 
he calls the act right or wrong because his con- 
science tells him so. He may not be conscious of 
the utility of the act which he approves or feels him- 
self obliged to perform. Our theory does not at all 
assert that he performs acts because of their effects. 
Moral acts are not necessarily prompted by the con- 
scious desire on part of the doer to produce certain 
consequences. We eat without being conscious of 
the utility of eating and without intending to pre- 
serve our bodies, but because we feel hungry. Still, 
we may say, and have the right to say, that the tak- 
ing of nourishment produces beneficial results, and 
that these constitute the reason or ground for our 
taking food. 2 There is no contradiction whatever 
between the statement that we call stealing wrong 
because we feel it to be wrong, or because conscience 
tells us so, and the statement that stealing is wrong 
because of its effects. In the former case we give 
the 'psychological reason or ground for the wrongness 



1 See Stephen, The Science of Ethics, chap, iv, ii, "The MoAl 
Law. 1 ' See also supra, p. 72, note 3. 

2 See Williams, A Review of Evolutional Ethics, pp. 326 ff. 
See Butler, Human Nature: "It may be added that as persons 
without any conviction from reason of the desirableness of life, 
would yet, of course, preserve it merely from the appetite of 
hunger; so, by acting merely from regard (suppose) to reputation, 
without any consideration of the good of others, men often con- 
tribute to public good." 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 131 

of the act ; in the latter we point out the real 
reason. 

It is just as easy and just as hard, in the last analy- 
sis, to explain why we should perform certain acts 
without being conscious of their utility, why we 
should feel obliged to pursue certain modes of con- 
duct, the purpose of which turns out to be useful, 
without being conscious of their purposiveness, as it is 
to tell why animals should feel impelled to do the very 
things which they ought to do in order to preserve 
life, without knowing anything of the end or pur- 
pose realized by their impulses. The attempts which 
have been made to account for this apparently pre- 
established harmony in the latter case greatly resem- 
ble those employed to explain the former. According 
to some, God has implanted certain ideas and feelings 
in the soul of the bird for the purpose of enabling 
it to do what it does. It knows what is good for it, 
because God has given it a faculty of knowing it. 
Others simply declare that instincts are innate ca- 
pacities for acting in a certain useful way. Still 
others try to explain them as the results of a long 
line of development, as products of evolution ; but 
in every case the utility of the instinct is confessed 
to be the ground of the animal's possessing it. 

The fact that conscience prescribes acts which are 
useful, without knowing of their usefulness, is ac- 
counted for in the same ways, as we have already 
seen. 1 According to some, God has given us a 
1 See chap. ii. 



i32 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

faculty by means of which we immediately discover 
useful acts. 1 We, however, prefer to say, as we said 
before, that conscience is a development, and grows 
with its environment. The race learns by experience 
that certain acts make happy and peaceful living to- 
gether impossible, while others tend to create relations 
of harmony and good will, and gradually evolves a 
code of morals which, in a measure at least, tends to 
preservation or happiness, or whatever the end may 
be. These modes of conduct, which must be strictly 
enforced, become habitual or customary, and are sur- 
rounded with the feelings — all the way from fear 
of retaliation to pure obligation — which we noticed 
before. 2 By the side of these feelings, which are 
more or less intense and easily hold the attention, 
the real purpose of the rules is lost sight of. Of 
course, it is not to be supposed that primitive soci- 
eties carefully reasoned out the possible effects of 
certain conduct and then adopted a particular end 
or purpose by an act of parliament. But we may 
imagine, I believe, that the primitive man had sense 
enough to find out when he was hurt, and when he 
hurt some one else, and that in order to live at all 
every one had to have some regard for every one 
else. Humanity did not solve the problem of adapt- 

1 Thus, Hutcbeson says : ' ' Certain feelings and acts are intui- 
tively recognized as good ; we have a natural sense of immediate 
excellence, and this is a supernaturally derived guide. All these 
feelings and acts agree in one general character, — of tending to 
happiness." See also Paley, Moral Philosophy. 

2 See chap. iii. 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 133 

ing itself to its surroundings in a day ; indeed, it is 
far from having mastered the subject even in the 
enlightened present. 

The objection, then, that individuals are not always 
conscious of the ultimate ground of moral distinc- 
tions 1 does not affect our theory at all. We can 
without difficulty explain both the immediacy with 
which moral judgments are uttered, and the igno- 
rance of the agent with reference to the end or pur- 
pose upon which the law is based. 

2. Categorical and Hypothetical Imperatives. — 
Closely connected with this objection is the one 
that the teleological theory cannot explain the abso- 
luteness of the moral law. The law, it is asserted, 
commands categorically or unconditionally, Thou 
shalt, Thou shalt not ; and is apparently utterly 
regardless of ends or effects or experience. We 
answer, in the first place, that the so-called categori- 
cal imperative is the expression in language of the 
feeling of obligation within us, which speaks per- 
emptorily, and that when we have explained this 
feeling we have explained the categorical impera- 
tive. Secondly, the teleological view will have to 
regard this imperative in the same light in which it 
views all imperatives or rules or commands or pre- 
scriptions. The claim of the teleological school is 
that acts are good or bad, right or wrong, according 
to the effects which they tend to produce. 2 Stealing, 

1 See first edition of Spencer's Social Statics. 

2 See, for example, Mill's Utilitarianism, p. 9. 



134 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

lying, murder, cruelty, are wrong because they pro- 
duce effects quite different from honesty, kindness, 
benevolence, etc. Moral rules, like all other rules, 
have a purpose in view ; they command a certain 
act in order that an end may be reached. When 
the physician prescribes for you he lays down certain 
rules, the purpose or object of which is the restora- 
tion of your health. These prescriptions may be 
reduced to the hypothetical form, as follows : If 
you would get well, do thus or so. Though the 
physician's imperatives are peremptory or uncondi- 
tional or categorical (as Kant would say) in form, 
though he may give no reason for them, they are 
virtually hypothetical in meaning. The same may 
be said of the moral imperatives. They are cate- 
gorical in form : Thou shalt not steal ; and hypo- 
thetical in meaning : If thou dost not desire certain 
consequences. The command, Do not steal, is not 
groundless or absolute or unconditional, as its form 
would indicate ; its reason or ground, though not 
explicitly stated, is implied : because stealing tends 
to bring about certain effects. 

3. Actual Effects and Natural Effects. — Again, 
the objector declares, the moral worth of an act is 
not dependent upon its effects ; nay, it is either good 
or bad utterly regardless of its results. 1 Even 
though, owing to peculiar circumstances, the assassi- 
nation of a tyrant may, all things considered, pro- 
duce good effects, and the performance of a kind 
1 See Kant and Martineau, chap. ii. 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 135 

deed do the opposite, still murder is wrong and 
benevolence right. 1 

Very true, we should say. We do not maintain that 
an act is right or wrong because of the effects which 
it actually produces in a particular case, but because 
of the effects which it naturally tends to produce. 
Arsenic is a fatal poison because it naturally tends 
to cause death. Sometimes the usual effect fails to 
appear, but we say that this is exceptional, and still 
regard arsenic as a fatal poison. Falsehood, cal- 
umny, theft, treachery, and murder naturally tend 
to produce evil effects, and are therefore wrong. It 
lies in the very nature of these modes of conduct to 
do harm. The universe is so arranged that certain 
acts are bound to have certain effects, and human 
nature is so constituted that some effects are desired, 
others despised. Now whether we assume that God 
directly gave to man certain laws, the observance of 
which enables him to reach ends desired by him, or 
whether we assume that man discovered them himself, 
the fact remains, that morality realizes a purpose, and 
that this purpose is the ground for its existence. 



1 Cardinal Newman says: "The Church holds that it were 
better for sun and moon to drop from the heavens, for the earth to 
fail, and for all the many millions who are upon it to die of starva- 
tion in extremest agony, so far as temporal affliction goes, than 
that one soul, I will not say should be lost, but should commit one 
single venial sin, should tell one wilful untruth, though it harmed 
no one, or steal one poor farthing without excuse." — Anglican 
Difficulties, p. 190. Compare with this Fichte's statement, "I 
would not break my word even to save humanity." 



136 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

Besides, it would be very difficult to prove that 
the slaying of the tyrant had no evil effects, and the 
benevolent deeds no good ones. Human nature is 
so constituted that the commission of a crime like 
murder cannot fail to do harm. The experience of 
mankind shows that the results of such a deed are 
baneful, and you can hardly prove that they will 
be absent in a particular case. Who can say that 
the murder of Julius Csesar, or of Alexander II of 
Russia, or even of Caligula, was a blessing ? Who 
would be willing to live in a society in which even 
the killing of tyrannical governors became the rule ? 

4. A Hypothetical Question Answered. — But, the 
common-sense moralist insists, even though murder 
and theft naturally tended to produce effects oppo- 
site to those which they now produce, they would 
still be wrong. The teleologist would answer : I 
cannot imagine such a state of affairs in a world con- 
stituted like ours. As things go here, these forms of 
conduct cannot help producing effects which human- 
ity condemns. Still, for the sake of argument, I 
will suppose your case. And let me first ask you a 
question. Would charity and honesty and loyalty 
and truthfulness still be virtues if they led to the 
overthrow of the world, if they caused sorrow and 
suffering, if they destroyed the life and progress and 
happiness of mankind ? It does not seem plausible, 
does it ? If murder and theft and falsehood really 
tended to produce opposite effects, mankind would 
not have condemned them. If murder were life- 



THE TELE0L0G1CAL VIEW 137 

giving instead of death-dealing, it would no longer 
be murder, that is all. Moreover, were mankind so 
constituted as to prefer death to life, it would not 
insist upon acts which make life and happiness 
possible. 

5. Morality and Prosperity. — Yet if your view 
is correct, our opponents assert, then the most moral 
man and the most moral nation should live and 
thrive. But is this always the case ? Nay, is not 
the reverse true ? * We can answer, that, generally 
speaking, obedience to the laws of morality insures 
life and happiness, and that " the wages of sin is 
death." But, just as a man who observes the rules 
of hygiene may become sick and die, so a moral indi- 
vidual and a moral nation may perish. Eating tends 
to preserve life, but yet eating men die. An earth- 
quake may swallow the most moral community in 
existence, and still its morality was the condition 
of its peaceful and happy life. 

6. Imperfect Moral Codes. — If utility is the 
criterion of morality, why do we find so many harm- 
ful and indifferent acts enjoined in the moral codes 
of peoples ? Why do men adhere with such tenacity 
to customs which, so far as we can see, have no 
raison d'etre ? 

We answer : (a) Certain acts were believed to 

have good effects, and so came to be invested with 

the authority of the law ; others were believed to 

have bad effects, and were prohibited. As we said 

1 Gallwitz, Problem der Ethik in der Gegenwart. 



138 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

before, ignorance and superstition play an important 
part in the making of moral codes. If human 
beings were all- wise and unprejudiced, the code 
might perhaps be perfect ; but as men are fallible, 
they cannot solve the problems of morality with 
absolute perfection. The belief in invisible powers 
led to many superstitious practices which we should 
call immoral, but which were imagined to be pro- 
ductive of good to the race. Many tribes offered 
human sacrifices to their gods, who reflected the 
moral nature of their chiefs, in order to satisfy the 
hunger of the deities, to appease their wrath, or to 
gain their good will. 1 After such practices have 
once become customary, they are clothed with the 
authority of conscience, and felt to be right. The 
Hindoo mother who throws her children into 
the river or is buried alive in the grave of her hus- 
band obeys the law of her tribe, and believes that 
somehow some good is going to come of it. 

(5) Where we have a low grade of intelligence 
in nations, we are apt to have what we of the pres- 
ent would call a low grade of morality. And 
similarly, where we have the feeling of sympathy 
undeveloped, we find modes of conduct which are 
abhorrent to a person of wider and deeper sympa- 
thies. Certain cruel practices are due to this fact. 
When the race grows more intelligent and its sym- 

1 See Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy, p. 266 ; Spencer, 
Inductions of Ethics ; Williams, Evolutional Ethics; E,e"e, Entsteh- 
ung des Gewissens. 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 139 

pathy widens, old forms of conduct are repudiated 
and new ones adopted. 

(<?) Conditions, inner and outer, change and make 
acts harmful or harmless, which were once not so. 
The race, however, is conservative, and clings to the 
old forms from force of habit and because the moral 
sentiments which cluster around them cannot be 
eradicated all at once. Just as there are laws on 
our statute books which once served a useful pur- 
pose, but are now ineffective and even harmful, so 
there are laws inscribed on the hearts of men which 
have lost their reason for existence. The orthodox 
Jew is taught to feel a certain moral reverence for 
customs which were rational for the time and place 
where they originated, but whose usefulness is gone. 

7. Moral Reform. — But perhaps the end realized 
by the several moral codes of peoples is not a truly 
moral one, you say ; perhaps their morality is not the 
true morality. Very true, we answer, but it is not 
our purpose to give to the world a brand new moral 
code, but to interpret the codes already existing. 
It is the business of a scientific ethics to study the 
morality that is, to investigate the rules of conduct 
which men feel as moral, and discover the principle 
which gave rise to them. If we find that there is 
such a principle and that men tacitly assent to it, 
we shall understand the genesis of morals. We shall 
be able to see where men have bungled in their blind 
attempts to apply the principle, and we shall be able 
to distinguish more intelligently between the right 



140 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

and the wrong. After we have found the ideal which 
is vaguely guiding the destinies of mankind, we of 
the present time can ask ourselves whether we are 
really realizing it in our conduct. We cannot, how- 
ever, lay down the law to the world, nor can we 
evaluate the existing codes of morality, without hav- 
ing a principle or criterion by which to test it. If 
we make conscience the criterion, that is, our own 
individual conscience, we are bound to speak dog- 
matically, and must concede the same right to other 
consciences. We can never obtain the consensus 
hominum for our rules unless we can justify them 
by means of a principle which everybody tacitly 
accepts. 

8. The Ultimate Sanction of the Moral Law. — But, 
we are asked by another objector, what validity has 
this principle of yours? You say that an act is 
good or bad because it produces effects desired or 
not desired by men. Why do men desire these 
effects ? Why do they prefer certain effects to 
others? And why do they feel bound to bring 
about certain ones and to refrain from causing 
others ? You say that morality is a means to an 
end, that the moral laws are grounded on their 
utility. Suppose we grant it, suppose we justify 
the particular rules by the fact that they serve a 
purpose. But how are we to justify this end or 
purpose itself? 

We cannot answer. We regard certain acts as 
good or bad because they tend to produce certain 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 141 

effects or to realize a certain end or ideal. These 
effects, this end, this ideal, are desired by men abso- 
lutely. We can give no reason for the fact that 
man prefers life to death or happiness to unhap- 
piness. We can understand why having certain 
impulses he should come to develop modes of conduct 
which tend to realize them. But why he should 
desire what he desires is a mystery which we can- 
not solve. Here we have reached the bed-rock of 
our science, here we have a true categorical impera- 
tive which commands absolutely and unconditionally. 1 
9. Motives and Effects. — The point is also raised 
that we call a man good in spite of the evil effects 
which his acts naturally tend to produce, when 
his motives are good. If the effects constituted 
the measure of worth, it is held, then the agent 
would be called bad regardless of his motives. 



1 Hume, Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, Appendix 
I, v : "It appears evident that the ultimate ends of human actions 
can never, in any case, be accounted for by reason, but recom- 
mend themselves entirely to the sentiments and affections of man- 
kind, without any dependence on the intellectual faculties. Ask a 
man why he uses exercise ; he will answer, because he desires to 
keep his health ; if you then inquire why he desires health, he will 
readily reply, because sickness is painful. If you push your in- 
quiries farther, and desire a reason why he hates pain, it is impos- 
sible he can ever give any. This is an ultimate end, and is never 
referred to any other object. Something must be desirable on its 
own account, and because of its immediate accord or agreement 
with human sentiment and affection." See Paulsen, Ethics, espe- 
cially p. 219 ; Spencer, Data of Ethics, chap, iii, § 9 ; Sigwart, 
Vorfragen der Ethilc, pp. 11 f. ; Logic, II, pp. 529 ff. See also 
§ 9 (c), § 12, and beginning of chap. vi. 



142 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

"We judge alwa} T s the inner spring of action, as 
distinguished from its outward operation," says 
Martineau : or, as Bradley puts it, 1 '* Acts in so far 
as they spring from the good will are good." And 
Kant holds, "Nothing can possibly be conceived 
in the world, or even out of it, which can be called 
good without qualification, except a Good Will." 
M A good will is good not because of what it per- 
forms or effects, not by its aptness for the attain- 
ment of a proposed end, but simply by virtue of the 
volition ; that is, it is good in itself." 2 

Let us analyze this view. 

(a) An act is good because it is prompted by a 
good will. But, we ask, what is a good will ? Is 
there any such thing as an absolute good will ? If 
not, what is the criterion of its goodness ? A good 
will is a will that is good for something, a will that 
tends to realize a certain end or purpose, is it not ? 
To say that a good will is a will that wills the good, 
is to argue in a circle. What is the good, what is 
the criterion of goodness ? It seems that we need 
a standard for judging springs of action as much 
as we need one for judging acts. 

(6) No, }'ou say, a good will is one which acts 
from a sense of duty or respect for the law, regard- 
less of effects, 3 and we call him good whose will is 
good in this sense. But, we ask, do we really call 
a man good whose sense of duty prompts him to' 

1 Ethical Studies. 2 Abbott's translation, p. 9. 

8 Kant. 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 143 

commit crime? Almost every fanatic who has assas- 
sinated the ruler of a nation, from Harmodios and 
Aristogeiton down to the miserable wretch who 
took the life of the defenceless Queen Elizabeth of 
Austria, did so from a sense of duty. We cannot 
call the deeds of these pretended patriots good, 
even though we may believe that their motives 
were good, good in the sense that they intended 
to benefit mankind. The fact is, we judge not only 
the disposition or motive, but both motive and act, 
the person and the thing, the subject and the object. 
When a man's motives are good or pure, we call him 
subjectively or formally moral ; when his act is good, 
objectively or materially moral. 1 To quote Paulsen's 
example, Saint Crispin stole leather from the rich 
to make shoes for the poor. His desire was to 
alleviate suffering, his motives were in a certain 
sense good. But can we approve of his conduct, 
or of the conduct of the political assassins who 
believe that the devil should be fought with his 
own devilish weapons? Is it right to steal from 
the rich to benefit the poor ; is it right to commit 
murder even without malice aforethought ? Why 
not? Because theft and murder tend to produce 
effects subversive of life, because it lies in the very 

1 "An act is materially good when, in fact, it tends to the 
interest of the system, so far as we can judge of its tendency, 
or to the good of some part consistent with the system, what- 
ever were the affections of the agent." "An action is formally 
good when it flowed from good affection in a just proportion." — 
Hutcheson. See also Wundt, Paulsen, Jhering, and others. 



144 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

nature of these acts to breed ruin and destruction. 
A man, then, may be subjectively moral and objec- 
tively immoral, and vice versa. But can we call 
him truly good or moral when there is a conflict 
between his motives and his deeds ? Should we 
hold him up to the world as a model, should we 
admire him as much as one whose motives lead 
him to the performance of commendable deeds ? 
Nay, should we not rather seek excuses for him ? 
Think of the thousand unfortunates whom the 
religious fervor of our Catholic forefathers slew 
for the greater glory of God ! We turn over the 
pages of the history of the Inquisition and shudder 
to think that the sense of duty should have allied 
itself with such cruelty, such heartlessness, such 
inhumanity. 

Let us say, then, that the goodness of an act 
depends upon the effects which it naturally tends 
to produce, and the goodness of a motive depends 
upon its tendency to express itself outwardly in 
good acts. The truly good man not only desires 
to do right, but does it. The reason why we lay 
so much stress on right feeling, on the inwardliness 
of morality, so to speak, is that it is apt to lead 
to right action. The heart is the citadel of moral- 
ity, and the pure in heart are apt to be pure in deed. 
" Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first the inside of the 
cup and of the platter, that the outside thereof may 
become clean also." As Leslie Stephen says : "The 
moral law has to be expressed in the form, 4 Be this,' 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 145 

not in the form 4 Do this ! ' ' "Regulate a man's feel- 
ings or his actions, and you necessarily affect his 
actions or his feelings. Induce a man not to hate 
his brother, and he will be slow to kill him ; and if 
you persuade him not to kill, you necessarily limit to 
some degree the force of his hatred. As it is easier 
for the primitive mind to accept the objective than 
the subjective definition of conduct, the primitive 
rule takes the corresponding form, and only pre- 
scribes qualities of character indirectly by prescrib- 
ing methods of conduct." 1 

(6) In a certain sense, however, we must confess, 
it is the human will which makes the act good. An 
act is good because of the end or purpose it realizes. 
This end or purpose is one desired or willed by 
man, and this ideal, this categorical imperative, as 
we called it before, is good in itself, absolutely good, 
that is, good in the sense that no reason can be given 
for its goodness. Hence we are brought back to an 
ultimate principle of human nature. The goodness 
of a particular act depends upon the effect which it 
tends to produce ; and the goodness of a particular 
motive depends upon the effect which it tends to 
produce in action, but the effect itself is good 
because man wills it. Interpreted in this sense, the 
Kantian view cannot be escaped ; in this sense noth- 
ing in this world is good except a good will, and a 
good will is good simply b}^ virtue of its volition. 

1 Science of Ethics, chap, iv, iv. See also Wundt, Ethics, Vol. I, 
chap, i, 2 6, pp. 37 ff. 



146 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

10. The End justifies the Means. — The following 
argument is also urged as a fatal objection to our 
theory : a According to the teleological view, it is 
maintained, morality is a means to an end. Hence, if 
the end is good, the means of realizing that end must 
necessarily be good, which is equivalent to saying 
that the end justifies the means. And if the end jus- 
tifies the means, then it is right to commit crime in 
order to realize a good end. The practical applica- 
tion of this teaching is bound to lead to immorality, 
which in itself stamps it as false and dangerous. 

These statements are full of misconceptions. The 
theory does not assert that any end which any per- 
son may happen to regard as good justifies any 
means which in that person's opinion will realize the 
end. It maintains that morality conduces to an end, 
that this end is the highest end, that this end, as the 
highest end, is tacitly desired and approved by all 
mankind. The correct application of such a prin- 
ciple cannot fail to meet the approval of the most 
moral man in existence. Let us go into details. 

(<z) This theory does not hold that when once a 
man has adopted a certain end as good he is justified 
in doing whatever conduces to it. Nay, we have 
expressly repudiated this view in our criticism of 
the " springs-of-action " theory. 2 Our theory does 
not concern itself with the temporary and particular 

1 See Paulsen, System of Ethics, in which it is treated in full, 
and to which I am largely indebted for the following paragraph. 

2 See chap, v, § 9. 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 147 

desires of individuals, which may conflict with the 
ultimate purpose of morality. I have the right to 
acquire property, but I have not the right to murder 
and steal in order to gain my point. The amassing 
of wealth is not the highest end, the chief good ; 
indeed, it is not an end in itself at all, but a means 
to a higher end. You may happen to believe that 
the advancement of a particular religious sect is the 
highest end, that God desires your faction to be tri- 
umphant. You may consequently regard it as right 
to use whatever means may benefit your sect. But 
you should remember, first, that your believing this 
does not make it so ; and, secondly, that evil deeds 
will not in the long run benefit any cause. Teleo- 
logical ethics does not say that ends justify means, 
but it can safely assert that the highest end, what- 
ever that may be, justifies the means. 

(7>) Does that mean that if the highest end can 
be realized by murder, theft, and falsehood, then 
these modes of conduct are moral ? We must 
answer, as before, that murder, theft, and falsehood 
tend to breed destruction, that it lies in their very 
nature to do so, as the experience of countless ages 
amply proves. Temporary advantages may, per- 
haps, be gained in exceptional cases by the perform- 
ance of such deeds, but lasting good cannot follow 
wrong. Honesty is the best policy, and the devil 
the father of lies. The highest end cannot be 
attained by such means; nay, no cause can thrive 
on wrong. 



148 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

But, you say, suppose a form of conduct which, 
as a rule, tends to produce pernicious effects, and 
is condemned, should, owing to changed conditions 
or special circumstances, result in good, what then? 
Well, we reply, if it is absolutely certain that such 
conduct tends to realize the end of morality, human- 
ity will approve of it. It is wrong to take human 
life or to rob a man of his liberty, and yet the State 
inflicts the death penalty on criminals, orders its 
soldiers to shoot down public foes by the hundreds, 
confines lawbreakers in prisons, and breaks up hun- 
dreds and thousands of homes. It is right to tell 
the truth, and yet the general deceives the enemy 
and even his own army ; and the physician deceives 
his patients in case he deems it necessary. 1 Is hu- 
manity benefited by these acts, would life and growth 
be impossible without them, are there no evil conse- 
quences attaching to them? We evidently believe 
that capital punishment tends to preserve society ; 
otherwise we should not permit it. Should the race 
ever lose faith in the efficacy of this awful process, 
so shocking to all sympathetic natures, it would not 
only abolish it, but forever regret the fate of those 
who have died on the bloody scaffold. 

(e) Another thing. The theory does not say that 
the end justifies the means which you or I may be- 
lieve or think will make for the end. There is a 
great difference between saying that the end justi- 

1 See Xenophon's Memorabilia, Bk. IV, Socrates's Definition 
of Justice. 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 149 

fies the means, and, the end justifies the means which 
you or I believe to be the means. In order to be 
strictly moral, an act must actually realize the high- 
est end. Your believing or feeling certain that it 
does, does not make it so. 

(d) It seems, then, you say, that both the race 
and the individual may be mistaken, that they may 
approve of laws which do not really promote the 
welfare of humanity, or whatever the end may be. 
Exactly, we answer, such is the case. To err is 
human, in morals as everywhere else. Many forms 
of conduct have in the course of history been felt 
as right, which subsequent generations acknowledged 
to be wrong. And men have died at the stake and 
on the cross for offering the world a moral code for 
which future ages blessed their names. The sinner 
of to-day often becomes the saint of to-morrow. 

(e) And now let us ask some questions ourselves. 
The opponents of teleology usually regard conscience 
as the final arbiter of conduct. A man is asked 
to act according to the dictates of his conscience. 
Now suppose it tells him to steal and kill and lie 
in order to accomplish what he believes to be right. 
Then are not falsehood and murder and stealing right ? 
And then, does not the good end justify the means? 
If you say that his conscience may be mistaken, and 
that he should therefore not obey his conscience, you 
have given up your position. Besides, how shall 
he correct his conscience ? By reflecting ? Reflect- 
ing upon what? Evidently upon some principle or 



150 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

criterion which is to serve as a guide even to his 
so-called infallible conscience. 1 

11. Teleology and Atheism. — The objection is also 
frequently raised that teleology is a godless doc- 
trine. This is the usual stand taken by persons who 
can oppose no tenable arguments against a view, 
and yet desire in some way to confound it. By 
designating it as atheistic they hope to cast discredit 
upon it and its supporters, and to frighten others 
from subscribing to it. The theory, however, is 
no more godless than any other theory. There is 
nothing absurd in the thought that God established 
morality because of the effects which it tends to 
realize. It is not absurd to believe that He had a 
purpose in view in establishing it, and that this pur- 
pose is the reason for its existence. No one, it seems 
to me, can accuse men like Thomas Aquinas, Will- 
iam Paley, 2 and Bishop Butler of godlessness; and 
yet they found it possible to believe in teleology. 
Let me quote from Butler's Sermons upon Human 
Nature : " It may be added that as persons without 
any conviction from reason of the desirableness of 
life would yet, of course, preserve it merely from 
the appetite of hunger, so, by acting merely from 
regard (suppose) to reputation, without any con- 
sideration of the good of others, men often contrib- 
ute to public good. In both these instances they 
are plainly instruments in the hands of another, in 

1 See Kant, Abbott's translation, p. 311. 

2 See chap, vi, § 10. 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 151 

the hands of Providence, to carry on ends — the 
preservation of the individual and good of society 
— which they themselves have not in their view or 
intention." 1 

12. Teleology and Intuitionism. — In conclusion, I 
should like to emphasize the fact that there is no 
necessary contradiction between the theory we have 
advanced in the foregoing pages, and intuitionism. 2 

1 See Mill's Utilitarianism, chap, ii, pp. 31 f. : " We not uncom- 
monly hear the doctrine of utility inveighed against as a godless 
doctrine. If it be necessary to say anything at all against so 
mere an assumption, we may say that the question depends upon 
what idea we have formed of the moral character of the Deity. If 
it be a true belief that God desires, above all things, the happiness 
of His creatures, and that this was His purpose in their creation, 
utility is not only not a godless doctrine, but more profoundly 
religious than any other. If it be meant that utilitarianism does 
not recognize the revealed will of God as the supreme law of 
morals, I answer that an utilitarian who believes in the perfect 
goodness and wisdom of God necessarily believes that whatever 
God has thought fit to reveal on the subject of morals must fulfil 
the requirements of utility in a supreme degree. But others 
besides utilitarians have been of opinion that the Christian revela- 
tion was intended, and is fitted, to inform the hearts and minds of 
mankind with a spirit which should enable them to find for them- 
selves what is right, and incline them to do it when found, rather 
than to tell them, except in a very general way, what it is ; 
and that we need a doctrine of ethics, carefully followed out, to 
interpret to us the will of God. Whether this opinion is correct or 
not, it is superfluous here to discuss, since whatever aid religion, 
either natural or revealed, can afford to ethical investigation, is as 
open to the utilitarian moralist as to any other. He can use it as 
the testimony of God to the usefulness or hurtfulness of any given 
course of action, by as good right as others can use it for the indi- 
cation of a transcendental law, having no connection with useful- 
ness or with happiness." 

2 See chap, iv, § 7, note. 



152 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

According to the teleological view, the ultimate 
ground of moral distinctions is to be sought in the 
effects which acts naturally tend to produce. That 
is, morality realizes a purpose, is a means to an end, 
and owes its existence to its utility. Intuitionism 
maintains that morality is intuitive, that the moral 
law is engraven on the heart of man, that it is not 
imposed upon him from without, but springs from 
his innermost essence. 

Now these two views are by no means antithetical, 
as is so often declared, but may be easily harmonized. 
In the first place, the end realized by morality is one 
absolutely desired by human beings. An act is right 
because it produces a certain effect upon human na- 
ture, because, in the last analysis, humanity approves 
of that effect. 1 We cannot ultimately justify it 
except on the ground of its effect upon man. It is 
good because man acknowledges it as a good, be- 
cause he is by nature so constituted as to be com- 
pelled to acknowledge it as a good. In a certain 
sense, Kant is right in saying that nothing in this 
world is good except a good will, and that a good 
will is good simply by virtue of its volition. The 
highest good, or the end realized by the moral law, is 
an absolute good, a good unconditionally desired by 
the human will, one for which no other ground can 
be found, one whose goodness inheres in itself. A 
particular act is good because of the end which it 
tends to realize, but the end is good in itself, good 
i See chap, v, § 8, § 9 (c). 



THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 



153 



>ecause man wills it. In this sense, there is a cate- 
gorical imperative in the heart of man, an imperative 
that is.no longer hypothetical, but unconditional. 1 
In this sense, too, morality is imposed upon man by 
himself: it is the expression of his own innermost 
essence. 

In the second place, we may say, as we have already 
said, that an act is good or bad because conscience 
declares it to be so. 2 The agent evaluates as he 
does because the contemplation of the act produces 
a certain effect upon his consciousness, because it 
arouses certain emotions in him, because conscience 
pronounces judgment upon it. This statement by 
no means contradicts the statement that the effect 
of the act is the final criterion of its moral worth. 
The intuitionist must grant that the acts approved 
by conscience produce good effects or realize the high- 
est good for man, and that its function is to help 
man to attain his goal. The theological intuitionist 
must admit that conscience approves of forms of 
conduct enjoined by God on account of their con- 
sequences, that conscience is the representative of 
God in the human heart, placed there in order to 
serve the purpose of the Creator with reference to 
man. In every instance, conscience is supposed 
to serve a purpose, to accomplish something for man, 
to produce effects; otherwise, why should it exist? 
There is really no controversy between the intuition- 

1 See chap, v, § 2 ; also chap, ii, § 7 (1). 

2 Chap, v, § 1. 



154 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

ist and the teleologist on this point. Both may- 
agree that conscience is a means to an end, and that 
this end, in some way, accounts for its existence. 
The question concerning the origin of conscience 
will not necessarily affect this view. The teleol- 
ogist may believe that conscience is innate, or that 
it is the product of experience, or that it contains 
both a 'priori and a posteriori elements, without con- 
tradicting his general theory, that morality serves a 
purpose in the world, and that this purpose is its 
final ground. 



CHAPTER VI 

THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD: HEDONISM i 

1. The Standard of Morality and the Highest 
G-ood. — The conclusion reached in the last chapter 
was that the effects of acts constitute the ultimate 
ground of moral distinctions. Acts are, in the last 
analysis, right or wrong, good or bad, because of the 
end or purpose which they tend to realize. We 
have attempted to show what this means and what 
it does not mean. The question now confronts us, 
What is this end or purpose at which human conduct 
aims ? Mankind enjoins certain modes of conduct in 
its moral codes, and insists upon their performance. 
The end realized by these must, therefore, represent 
what the race ultimately desires and approves ; it 
must in a measure represent the ideal of the race, or 
a good. The race desires and approves of the forms 
of conduct embraced in the moral code, for the sake 
of the end realized by that code, and desires and 
approves of the end for its own sake. The end 
must be something which it desires absolutely, other- 
wise it would be no end, but a means. Our original 
question, What is the ground of moral distinctions, 
may therefore be reduced to this : What is the 
1 See references under chap. ii. 
155 



156 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS 

highest end, or the highest good, the summum bonum? 
What is it that mankind strives for, what does it 
prize above all else, what is its ideal ? 

2. The Greek Formulation of the Problem. — This 
is the form in which the ancient Greeks put the 
problem. They do not analyze moral facts as we do, 
in order to discover the principles underlying them, 
but simply inquire into the nature of the highest 
good. "Every art and every scientific inquiry," 
says Aristotle, at the beginning of his Nieomachean 
Ethics, " and similarly every action and purpose, 
may be said to aim at some good. Hence the good 
has been defined as that at which things aim. But 
it is clear that there is a difference in the ends ; for 
the ends are sometimes activities, and sometimes 
results beyond the mere activities. Also, where 
there are certain ends beyond the actions, the results 
are naturally superior to the activities. As there 
are certain arts and sciences, it follows that the 
ends are also various. Thus health is the end of 
medicine, a vessel of ship-building, and wealth of 
domestic economy." 1 

" What, then, is the good in each of these instances ? 
It is presumably that for the sake of which all else is 
done. This in medicine is health ; in strategy, vic- 
tory ; in domestic architecture, a house ; and so on. 
But in every action and purpose it is the end, as it is 
for the sake of the end that people all do everything 
else. If, then, there is a certain end of all action, 
1 Bk. I, chap. i. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 157 

it will be this which is the practicable good, and if 
there are several such ends it will be these. . . . 
As it appears that there are more ends than one, and 
some of these, e.g., wealth, flutes, and instruments 
generally, we desire as means to something else, it is 
evident that they are not all final ends. But the 
highest good is clearly something final. Hence, if 
there is only one final end, this will be the object of 
which we are in search, and if there are more than 
one, it Avill be the most final of them. We speak of 
that which is sought after for its own sake as more 
final than that which is sought after as a means to 
something else ; we speak of that which is never 
desired as a means to something else as more final 
than the things which are desired both in themselves 
and as a means to something else; and we speak of a 
thing as absolutely final, if it is always desired in 
itself and never as a means to something else." 1 

Let us see how this question of the highest good 
was answered in the past. 

The question usually receives one of two answers: 
(1) According to one school, pleasure is the highest 

1 Bk. I, chap, v, Welldon's translation. Compare with this 
Mill, Utilitarianism, chap, i: "Questions of ultimate ends are not 
amenable to direct proof. Whatever can he proved to be good 
must be so by being shown to be a means to something admitted to 
be good without proof. The medical art is proved to be good 
by its conducing to health ; but how is it possible to prove that 
health is good ? The art of music is good for the reason, among 
others, that it produces pleasure ; but what proof is it possible to 
give that pleasure is good ? " See also Hume, Principles of Morals, 
Appendix I, v., quoted in note on p. 141. 



158 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

good, end, or purpose ; (2) according to another, it 
is action, or preservation, or perfection, or reason. 
We shall discuss the different theories in what fol- 
lows, under the heads of hedonism and energism. 1 

3. The Cyrenaics. — Aristippus of Cyrene, who 
lived in the third century before Christ and founded 
the Cyrenaic school, 2 regards pleasure Qqhovr)*) as the 
ultimate aim of life, for all normal beings desire it. 
" We are from childhood attracted to it without any 
deliberate choice of our own ; and when we have 
obtained it, we do not seek anything further, and 
there is nothing which we avoid so much as its oppo- 
site, which is pain." 3 By pleasure he means the 
positive enjoyment of the moment (rjhovrj ev klv^(T€l), 
not merely repose of spirit, " a sort of undisturbed- 
ness," or permanent state of happiness. The chief 
good is a particular pleasure. Only the present is 
ours, the past is gone, the future uncertain. Therefore, 
" Carpe diem," "Gather the rosebuds while ye may," 
"Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow you die." 

But shall the pleasure be bodily or mental? 
Well, bodily pleasures are superior to mental ones, 

1 See chap, iv, § 6. 

2 See Diogenes Laertius, The Lives and Opinions of Eminent 
Philosophers, Bk. II ; Sextus Empiricus, Adv. math. , Bk. VII, 191- 
192 ; Bitter and Preller, Historic/, Philosophies Grcecce, pp. 207 ff. ; 
Mullach, Fragments, Vol. II, 397 ff. ; the histories of ethics, etc., men- 
tioned under chap, ii, especially Paulsen, Seth, Sidgwick, Hyslop, 
Lecky, chap i. For fuller bibliographies on the thinkers mentioned 
in this chapter, see the histories of philosophy, especially English 
translation of Weber's History of Philosophy. 

8 Diogenes Laertius, translated in Bonn's Library, p. 89. 






THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 159 

and bodily sufferings worse than mental. Still, 
every pleasant feeling (J]hvirdQeia)^ whether it be 
physical or spiritual, is pleasure. Every pleasure 
as such is a good. But some pleasures are bought 
with great pain and are to be avoided. A man 
should exercise his judgment, be prudent in the 
choice of his pleasures. "The best thing," says 
Aristippus, "is to possess pleasures without being 
their slave, not to be devoid of pleasures." 

Theodoras, a member of the same school, declares 
that, since you cannot always enjoy, you should try 
to reach a happy frame of mind (%apa). Prudence 
will enable a man to obtain the pleasant and avoid 
the unpleasant. Pleasure, then, is the end ; pru- 
dence or insight or reflection (<£/ooV?7<u?), the means 
of getting the most pleasure out of life. 

Hegesias, called ireicjiQavaTos (persuader to die), 
the pessimist, admits that we all desire happiness, 
but holds that complete happiness cannot exist. 
Hence the chief good is to be free from all trouble 
and pain, and this end is best attained by those who 
look upon the efficient causes of pleasure as indiffer- 
ent. Indeed, death is preferable to life, for death 
takes us out of the reach of pain. 1 Anniceris, too, 
considers pleasure as the chief good, and the depri- 
vation of it as an evil. Still, a man has natural 
feelings of benevolence, and ought therefore to sub- 
mit voluntarily to this deprivation out of regard for 
his friends and his country. 

1 See Cicero, Tusc. , 34. 



160 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

4. Epicurus. — According to Epicurus, 1 a later 
advocate of hedonism, pleasure is the highest good, 
pain the greatest evil, 2 not, however, the positive or 
active pleasure of the Cyrenaics, pleasure in motion 
(jjhovr) kivh]tik7])^ but quiet pleasure (rfiovr) Karaarrj- 
HaTLicr/), repose of spirit (arapa^ia), freedom from 
pain (airovlci). The latter pleasures, which Epicu- 
rus calls pleasures of the soul, are greater than the 
former, those of the body ; just as the pains of 
the soul are worse than those of the body. For the 
flesh is only sensible to present joy and affliction, 
but the soul feels the past, the present, and the 
future. Physical pleasure does not last as such ; 
only the recollection of it endures. Hence, mental 
pleasure, i.e., the remembrance of bodily pleasure, 
which is free from the pains accompanying physical 
enjoyment, is higher than physical pleasure. 

Now how shall we reach the chief good ? Although 
no pleasure is intrinsically bad, we do not choose 
every pleasure, for many pleasures are followed by 
greater pains, and many pains are followed by 
greater pleasures. We must exercise our judgment, 
we must have prudence or insight (jfypovqa-is') to 

1 340-270 b.c. Diogenes Laertius, X; Cicero, De finibus, I; 
Lucretius, De rerum natura ; Sextus Empiricus, Adv. math., XI; 
Ritter and Preller, pp. 373 ff. See my translation of Weber, His- 
tory of Philosophy, p. 134, note 1. 

2 "They say that there are two passions, pleasure and pain, 
which affect everything alive, and that the one is natural, and 
the other foreign to our nature ; with reference to which all objects 
of choice and avoidance are judged of." Diogenes Laertius, Eng- 
lish translation, p. 436 ; see also p. 470. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 161 

guide us in our choice of pleasures and in our avoid- 
ance of pains. " When therefore we say that pleas- 
ure is a chief good, we are not speaking of the 
pleasures of the debauched man, or those who lie 
in sensual enjoyment, as some think who are igno- 
rant, and who do not entertain our opinions, or else 
interpret them perversely ; but we mean the freedom 
of the body from pain, and of the soul from confu- 
sion. For it is not continued drinkings and revels, 
or the enjoyment of female society, or feasts of fish 
and other such things as a costly table supplies, 
that make life pleasant, but sober contemplation, 
which examines the reasons for all choice and avoid- 
ance, and which puts to flight the vain opinions 
from which the greater part of the confusion arises 
which troubles the soul." "The wise man, the man 
of insight, understands the causes of things, and 
will, therefore, be free from prejudice, superstition, 
fear of death, all of which render one unhappy and 
hinder the attainment of peace of mind." 

In order to be happy, then, you must be prudent, 
honest, and just. " It is not possible to live pleas- 
antly unless one also lives prudently, and honorably, 
and justly ; and one cannot live prudently, and hon- 
estly, and justly, without living pleasantly ; for the 
virtues are connate with living agreeably, and living 
agreeably is inseparable from the virtues." 1 

We see how this school develops from a crass 
hedonism to a somewhat more refined form of it. 
1 D. L., pp. 471 f. 



162 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

At first it makes active pleasure, pleasure of a posi- 
tive sort, the goal, then gradually diminishes its 
intensity until it becomes painlessness, repose of 
spirit, peace of mind, in Hegesias and Epicurus. 
Again, at first it is the pleasure of the moment 
which is sought after, then the pleasure of a life- 
time is conceived as the highest good. Forethought, 
or prudence, is also insisted on in the course of time 
as a necessary means of realizing the goal. 

5. Democritus. — All these ideas, however, had been 
advanced by Democritus, 1 of Abdera, the materialistic 
philosopher, long before the appearance of the Cyre- 
naics. Though this thinker is the first consistent 
hedonist among the ancients, and the intellectual 
father of Epicurus, I have placed him at the end of 
the exposition of ancient hedonism, because his 
teachings seem to me to be more matured than 
those of his followers. 

According to Democritus, the end of life is pleas- 
ure or happiness (eveo-rco, evdv/ita, aOav/jbaata, a0a/JL- 
ftia, aTapa^La, apfjbovta, ^v/jL/jLerpia, evhai[JLOvia), by 
which he means an inner state of satisfaction, an 
inner harmony, fearlessness. 2 This feeling does not 
depend upon external goods, on health or sensuous 
pleasures. 3 In order to attain it man must use his 
reason. He must be moderate in his desires, because 
the less he desires, the less apt he is to be disap- 

1 Bibliography in Weber, p. 55, note 3. See especially Miinz, 
Vorsokratische Ethik. 

2 Fragments, 1, 2, 5, 7. 3 lb., 15, 16. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 163 

pointed. He must also distinguish carefully between 
the different kinds of enjoyment, and select such as 
preserve and promote health. He must be temper- 
ate, for excess defeats itself. Again, sensuous pleas- 
ures are of short duration and require repetition, 
which disturbs one's peace of mind. 1 We should 
seek to obtain the pleasures produced by reflection 
and the contemplation of beautiful acts. Indeed, 
the best way to reach the goal is to exercise the 
mental powers. 

All other virtues are valuable in so far as they 
realize the highest good, pleasure. Justice and 
benevolence are chief means of doing this. Envy, 
jealousy, and enmity create discord, which injures 
everybody. We should be virtuous, for only through 
virtue can we reach happiness. 2 But we should not 
only do the right from fear of punishment, since 
enforced virtue is likely to become secret vice. It 
is not enough to refrain from doing evil; we should 
not even desire to do it. Only by doing the right 
from conviction and because you desire it, can you 
subserve the ends of virtue and be happy. 3 Happi- 
ness, then, is the end ; virtue the means of reaching it. 

6. Locke. — Let us now look at a few pronounced 
modern representatives of this school. We have 
already seen 4 that, according to John Locke, every 

i Fragments, 47, 50. 2 76., 45, 20, 21, 26, 36. 

3 /&, 117 : fMT] Sid (p6(3op, d\Xa 8ia rbv btov xP €< ^ v o,TT^x €<T ^ ai 
a/xapTTi/x&Tiov. 

* Chap, ii, § 6 (2). 



164 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

one constantly pursues happiness, and desires what 
makes any part of it. 1 "Virtue," he says, "as in 
its obligation it is the will of God, discovered by 
natural reason, and thus has the force of law, so in 
the matter of it, it is nothing else but doing of good, 
either to oneself or others; and the contrary hereunto, 
vice, is nothing else but doing of harm." 2 "Thus, I 
think — It is man's proper business to seek happi- 
ness and avoid misery. Happiness consists in what 
delights and contents the mind ; misery in what dis- 
turbs, discomposes, or torments it. I will therefore 
make it my business to seek satisfaction and delight, 
and avoid uneasiness and disquiet ; to have as much 
of the one, and as little of the other, as may be. But 
here I must have a care I mistake not, for if I prefer 
a short pleasure to a lasting one, it is plain I cross 
my own happiness." The most lasting pleasures in 
life consist in (1) health, (2) reputation, (3) knowl- 
edge, (4) doing good, (5) the expectation of eternal 
and incomprehensible happiness in another world. 3 
7. Butler. — Bishop Butler, too, has hedonistic ten- 
dencies, as may be seen from certain significant pas- 
sages in his sermons. " Conscience and self-love," 

1 Essay, Bk. II, chap, xx, §§ 1 ff.; chap, xxi, §§ 42 ff.; Bk. I, 
chap, iii, § 3 ; Bk. II, chap, xxviii, §§ 5 ff. 

2 See passage in Locke's Common-Place Book, first published 
by Lord King, The Life of John Locke, pp. 292-293. 

8 Lord King, p. 304 ; Fox Bourne's Life of Locke, Vol. I, pp. 
163-165. With this view, Leibniz (1646-1716) practically agrees. 
See his New Essays, translated by Langley, Bk. I, chap, ii, §§ 1, 
3 ; Bk. II, chap, xx, § 2 ; chap, xxi, § 42 ; also some notes published 
in Erdmann's edition of his works (Duncan's translation, p. 130). 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 165 

he says, " if we understand our true happiness, always 
lead us the same way. Duty and interest are per- 
fectly coincident ; for the most part in this world, 
but entirely and in every instance if we take in the 
future and in the whole ; this being implied in the 
notion of a good and perfect administration of 
things." 1 "It may be allowed without any preju- 
dice to the cause of virtue and religion, that our 
ideas of happiness and misery are of all our ideas 
the nearest and most important to us. . . . Let it 
be allowed, though virtue or moral rectitude does 
indeed consist in affection to and pursuit of what 
is right and good, as such, yet, that when Ave sit 
down in a cool hour, we can neither justify to our- 
selves this or any other pursuit, till we are convinced 
that it will be for our happiness, or at least not con- 
trary to it." 2 

8. Hutcheson. — Francis Hutcheson calls an action 
"materially good when in fact it tends to the interest 
of the system, so far as we can judge of its tendency, 
or to the good of some part consistent with that 
of the system, whatever were the affections of the 
agent." "An action is formally good when it flowed 
from good affection in a just proportion." But 
what is the good ? " That action is best which pro- 
cures the greatest happiness for the greatest numbers, 
and worst which in like manner occasions misery." 3 

1 Sermon iii, end. 2 Sermon xi. 

3 See Martineau, Types, Vol. II, pp. 514 ff.; Albee, "Shaftes- 
bury and Hutcheson," Phil. Beview, Vol. V, number 1. 



166 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

9. Hume. — We have already examined David 
Hume's doctrine of the moral sense. We feel or per- 
ceive the rightness or wrongness of an act, 1 we feel a 
peculiar kind of pleasure or pain in the contemplation 
of characters and actions, in consequence of which we 
call them right or wrong. Now the question behind 
this is, Why does any action or sentiment, "upon 
the general view or survey," give this satisfaction or 
uneasiness ? 2 In other words, what is the ultimate 
ground of moral distinctions ? " Qualities," Hume 
answers, "acquire our approbation because of their 
tendency to the good of mankind." 3 We find that 
most of those qualities which we naturally approve 
of, have actually that tendency, and render a man a 
proper member of society ; while the qualities which 
we naturally disapprove of, have a contrary tendency 
and render any intercourse with the person danger- 
ous or disagreeable. Moral distinctions arise, in a 
great measure, from the tendency of the qualities 
and characters to the interests of society, and it is 
our concern for that interest which makes us ap- 
prove or disapprove of them. Now we have no such 
extensive concern for society but from sympathy ; 
and consequently it is that principle which takes 
us so far out of ourselves as to give us the same 
pleasure or uneasiness in the characters of others, 
as if they had a tendency to our own advantage or 

1 Treatise on Human Nature, Bk. Ill, Section II. 

2 lb., Bk. Ill, Section III, end. 

» lb., Bk. Ill, Part III, Section I; Hyslop's Selections, p. 226. 






THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 167 

loss. 1 We have a feeling for the happiness of man- 
kind, and a resentment of their misery, 2 and every- 
thing which contributes to the happiness of society 
recommends itself directly to our approbation and 
good will. 3 

10. Paley. — According to William Paley, "actions 
are to be estimated according to their tendency. 
Whatever is expedient is right. It is the utility of 
any moral rule which constitutes the obligation of it." 4 
" Virtue is the doing good to mankind, in obedience 
to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting 
happiness." 5 God wills and wishes the happiness of 
His creatures. The method of coming at the will of 
God concerning any action, by the light of nature, 
is to inquire into the tendency of that action to pro- 
mote or diminish the general happiness. 6 Happiness 
does not consist in the pleasures of sense, for these 
pleasures continue but a little while at a time, lose 
their relish by repetition, and are really never en- 
joyed because we are always eager for higher and 
more intense delights. Nor does happiness con- 

1 See Hyslop, p. 227 ; also Treatise, Conclusion, Section VI ; 
also Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, especially Sec- 
tion V. 

2 Inquiry, Appendix I. 

3 16., Part II, Section V. See also Appendix I, v, and Treatise 
on Human Nature, Bk. II, Part III, Section I: "The chief spring 
or actuating principle of the human mind is pleasure or pain ; and 
when these sensations are removed, both from our thought and 
feeling, we are, in a great measure, incapable, of passion or action, 
of desire or volition." 

4 Moral Philosophy, p. 38. 6 lb., p. 26. 6 lb., pp. 36 ff. 



168 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

sist in an exemption from pain, care, business, sus- 
pense, etc., nor in greatness or rank. It consists 
in the exercise of social affections, exercise of our 
faculties, either of body or mind, in the pursuit of 
some engaging end, in the prudent constitution of 
the habits, in health. Pleasures differ in nothing 
but continuance and intensity. 1 

11. Bentham. — Jeremy Bentham also makes pleas- 
ure the end of action. " Pleasure is in itself a 
good, nay the only good ; pain is in itself an evil, 
the only evil." 2 Everything else is good only in 
so far as it conduces to pleasure. All actions are 
determined by pleasures and pains, and are to 
be judged by the same standard. " The con- 
stantly proper end of action on the part of 
every individual at the moment of action is his 
real greatest happiness from that moment to the 
end of his life." What kind of pleasure shall we 
choose? Choose those pleasures which last the 
longest and are the most intense, regardless of 
their quality. " The quantity of pleasure being 
equal, push-pin is as good as poetry." In esti- 
mating the value of a pleasure or a pain, we 
must also consider, besides the intensity and dura- 
tion, its certainty or uncertainty, its propinquity or 
remoteness, its fecundity (" or the chance it has of 
being followed by sensations of the same kind"), 

1 Moral Philosophy, pp. 19 ff. 

2 Principles of Morals and Legislation, chap, x* Bowring's edi- 
tion, p. 102; Springs of Action, ii, § 4; Deontology, Vol. I, p. 126. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 169 

or 'purity (" or the chance it has of not being 
followed by sensations of the opposite kind"), 
and likewise its extent, — that is, the number of 
persons to whom it extends or who are affected 
by it.* 

My own happiness depends upon the happiness 
of the greatest number, i.e., the conduct most con- 
ducive to general happiness always coincides with 
that which conduces to the happiness of the agent. 2 
Hence it is to the interest of the individual to strive 
after the general happiness, and it is the business of 
ethics to point this out to him. " To prove that the 
immoral action is a miscalculation of self-interest, to 
show how erroneous an estimate the vicious man 
makes of pains and pleasures, is the purpose of the 
intelligent moralist." 3 

12. J. S. Mill — John Stuart Mill 4 accepts the 
teaching of Bentham in a somewhat modified form. 
Actions are right in proportion as they tend to pro- 

1 Principles of Morals and Legislation, chap, iv, pp. 29 ff. 
Bentham expresses his scheme in the following lines. I presume 
he supposed that at some future time the school children would be 
compelled to learn them off by heart : — 

"Intense, long, certain, speedy, fruitful, pure — 
Such marks in pleasures and m. pains endure. 
Such pleasures seek, if private be thy end : 
If it be public, wide let them extend. 
Such pains avoid, whichever be thy view : 
If pains must come, let them extend to few." 

2 lb., chap, xvii, p. 313. 3 Deontology. 

4 1806-1873. Utilitarianism, 1861. See also Analysis of the 
Phenomena of the Human Mind, by James Mill. 



170 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

mote happiness ; wrong, as they tend to produce the 
reverse of happiness. By happiness is intended pleas- 
ure and the absence of pain ; by unhappiness, pain and 
the privation of pleasure. 1 Some kinds of pleasure, 
however, are more desirable and more valuable than 
others. Of two pleasures, if there be one to which 
all or almost all who have experience of both give a 
decided preference, irrespective of any moral obliga- 
tion to prefer it, that is the more desirable pleasure. 
Now it is an unquestioned fact that those who are 
acquainted with all pleasures prefer those following 
the employment of the higher faculties. No intelli- 
gent human being would consent to be a fool, no 
instructed person would be an ignoramus, no person 
of feeling and conscience would be selfish and base, 
even though they should be persuaded that the fool, 
the dunce, or the rascal is better satisfied with his 
lot than they with theirs. " It is better to be a 
human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied ; better 
to be a Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. 
And if the fool or the pig is of a different opinion, 
it is because they only know their own side of the 
question. The other party to the comparison knows 
both sides." 2 

However, the standard is not the agent's own 
greatest happiness, but the greatest amount of hap- 
piness altogether. 3 " As between his own happiness 
and that of others, utilitarianism requires him (the 
agent) to be as strictly impartial as a disinterested 
1 Utilitarianism, chap, ii, pp.9, 10. 2 lb., p. 14. 3 lb., p. 16. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 171 

and benevolent spectator. In the golden rule of 
Jesus of Nazareth, we read the complete spirit of the 
ethics of utility. To do as one would be done by, 
and to love one's neighbor as oneself, constitute the 
ideal perfection of utilitarian morality." 1 It is 
noble to be capable of resigning entirely one's own 
portion of happiness, or chances of it ; but, after all, 
this self-sacrifice must be for some end ; it is not 
its own end. A sacrifice which does not increase, 
or tend to increase, the sum total of happiness, is 
wasted. 2 

But why should I desire the " greatest happiness 
altogether " instead of my own greatest happiness, as 
the standard ? Mill is somewhat vague and indefi- 
nite on this point. Each person desires his own 
happiness. Each person's happiness is a good to 
that person ; and the general happiness, therefore, a 
good to the aggregate of all persons. 3 The reason- 
ing here seems to be this: Eveiwbody desires his own 
happiness. The happiness of everybody (every par- 
ticular individual) is a good to everybody (to that 
particular individual). Hence the happiness of 
everybody (that is, of all, of the whole) is a good to 
everybody (that is, to every particular individual). 4 
A more satisfactory answer is given to the question 
in another place. I have a feeling for the happiness 
of mankind, " a regard for the pains and pleasures of 

1 Utilitarianism, chap, ii, p. 24. 2 75., pp. 23 ff. 8 lb., p. 53. 
MVe have here a beautiful example of the logical fallacy of 
composition. 



172 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

others." " This firm foundation is that of the social 
feelings of mankind; the desire to be in unity with 
our fellow-creatures, which is already a powerful 
principle in human nature, and happily one of those 
which tend to become stronger, even without express 
inculcation, from the influences of advancing civili- 
zation." 1 That is, I desire the happiness of others, 
because I have social feelings, or sympathy. 

Both Mill and Bentham, therefore, agree that the 
greatest good of the greatest number is the goal of 
action and the standard of morality. But according 
to Bentham, self-interest is the motive, while accord- 
ing to Mill, sympathy or social feeling is the main- 
spring of morality. 

There is, however, as we have seen, another point 
of difference between Bentham and Mill. The 
former regards those pleasures as the best which last 
the longest and are the most intense, making no 
qualitative distinction between them. " The quan- 
tity of pleasure being equal, push-pin is as good as 
poetry." Mill, on the other hand, distinguishes be- 
tween the quality of pleasures; some are more desir- 
able and more valuable than others, and the highest 
pleasures are to be preferred. " According to the 
Greatest Happiness Principle," he declares, "the 
ultimate end with reference to and for the sake of 
winch all other things are desirable (whether we are 
considering our own good or that of other people) 
is an existence exempt as far as possible from pain, 
1 Utilitarianism, chap, ii, p. 46. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 173 

and as rich as possible in enjoyments, both in point 
of quantity and quality ; the test of quality, and the 
rule for measuring it against quantity, being the 
preference felt by those who, in their opportunities 
of experience, to which must be added their habits of 
self-consciousness and self-observation, are best fur- 
nished with the means of comparison. This, being, 
according to the utilitarian opinion, the end of 
human action, is necessarily also the standard of 
morality; which may accordingly be defined, the 
rules and precepts for human conduct, by the observ- 
ance of which an existence such as has been described 
might be, to the greatest extent possible, secured to 
all mankind; and not to them only, but so far as the 
nature of things admits, to the whole of sentient 
creation." 1 

13. Sidgivick and Contemporaries. — We reach 
another phase of the theory in Henry Sidgwick. 2 
According to him, the greatest happiness is the 
ultimate good. 3 By this is meant the greatest pos- 
sible surplus of pleasure over pain, the pain being 
conceived as balanced against an equal amount of 
pleasure, so that the two contrasted amounts anni- 
hilate each other for purposes of ethical calculation. 4 

There are certain practical principles the truth 
of which, when they are explicitly stated, is mani- 
fest. 5 One of these is the principle of rational self- 

1 Utilitarianism, chap, ii, p. 17. 

2 Born 1838. The Methods of Ethics, 1874. 

8 Methods, pp. 391 ff., 409 ff. * lb., p. 411. « lb., p. 379. 



174 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

love or prudence, according to which one ought to 
aim at one's own happiness or pleasure, as a whole ; 
that is, reason dictates "an impartial concern for 
all parts of our conscious life," an equal regard 
for the rights of all moments, the future as well 
as the present, the remote as well as the near. The 
present pleasure is to be foregone with the view of 
obtaining greater pleasure or happiness hereafter. 
" Hereafter is to be regarded neither less nor more 
than Now." 

Another such principle, the principle of the duty 
of benevolence, teaches that the good of any one in- 
dividual is of no more importance, from the point 
of view of the universe, than the good of any other. 
One is morally bound to regard the good of any 
other individual as much as one's own, except in 
so far as we judge it to be less, when imjDartially 
viewed, or less certainly knowable or attainable. As 
a rational being I am bound to aim at good gen- 
erally, not merely at a particular part of it. When 
the egoist puts forward, implicitly or explicitly, the 
proposition that his happiness or pleasure is good, not 
only for him, but from the point of the universe — 
as, e.g., by saying that "nature designed him to seek 
his own happiness," — it then becomes relevant to 
point out to him that his happiness cannot be a more 
important part of good taken universally, than the 
equal happiness of any other person. And thus, start- 
ing with his own principle, he may be brought to 
accept universal happiness or pleasure as that which is 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 175 

absolutely without qualification good or desirable ; as 
an end, therefore, to which the action of a reasonable 
agent as such ought to be directed. 1 

Another principle is the principle of justice ; what- 
ever action any one of us judges to be right for him- 
self he implicitly judges to be right for all similar 
persons in similar circumstances. It cannot be right 
for A to treat B in a manner in which it would be 
wrong for B to treat A ; merely on the ground that 
they are two different individuals, and without there 
being any difference between the natures or circum- 
stances of the two which can be stated as a reasonable 
ground for difference of treatment. 2 

Other contemporary exponents of the hedonis- 
tic school are : Alexander Bain, 3 Alfred Barratt, 4 
Shadworth Hodgson, 5 Herbert Spencer, 6 Georg von 
Gizycki, 7 and Thomas Fowler. 8 

1 3Iethods, p. 418. 2 p. 380. 

3 The Senses and the Intellect, 1856 ; The Emotions and the 
Will, 1859 ; Mental and Moral Science, 1868. See chap, ii, § 6 (7). 

4 Physical Ethics, 1869. 5 Theory of Practice, 2 vols., 1870. 

6 Principles of Ethics : Part I, "The Data of Ethics," 1879; 
Part II, "The Inductions of Ethics," 1892 ; Part III, " The Ethics 
of Individual Life," 1892 ; Part IV, "Justice," 1891. " There is no 
escape," says Spencer, "from the admission that in calling good 
the conduct which subserves life, and bad the conduct which 
hinders or destroys it, and in so implying that life is a blessing, 
and not a curse, we are inevitably asserting that conduct is good 
or bad according as its total effects are pleasurable or painful." — 
Data of Ethics, chap, iii, p. 28. 

7 Grundzuge der Moral, 1883, translated by Stanton Coit ; Mor- 
alphilo sophie, 1889. 

8 Progressive Morality, 1884 ; Eowler and Wilson, Principles of 
Morality, 1886-1887. 



176 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

14. General Survey. — In conclusion let us briefly 
survey the history of the theories of hedonism, and 
note their development. In Greek hedonism the ten- 
dency was at first to regard bodily pleasure and the 
pleasure of the moment as the highest good and 
motive of action (Aristippus). A closer study of 
the problem led to the gradual modification of this 
conception. Instead of the pleasure of the moment, 
the pleasure of a lifetime ; instead of violent pleas- 
ure, repose of spirit, a happy frame of mind, came 
to be regarded as the ideal of conduct (Theodorus, 
Democritus, Epicurus). The element of prudence 
or reason was also more strongly emphasized in 
the course of time. It was pointed out that hap- 
piness could not be secured without prudence or 
forethought ; that the desire for pleasure had to 
be governed by reason (Democritus, Epicurus). 
Then it was shown that mental pleasures were 
preferable to bodily pleasures, that the ideal could 
not be realized through sensuous enjoyment, but 
only by the exercise of the higher intellectual 
faculties (Democritus, Epicurus). The commonly 
accepted virtues were also included among the 
means of happiness, and a moral life insisted on as 
necessary to the realization of the highest good. 
Indeed, the controversy between hedonism and the 
opposing school finally reduced itself to a dispute 
concerning the fundamental principle underlying 
morality ; both schools practically recommended 
the same manner of life, one because it led to 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 177 

happiness, the other because it tended toward per- 
fection. 1 

Modern hedonists make the standpoint ultimately 
reached by the Greeks their starting-point. None 
of them asserts that pleasure is the highest good, 
without modifying the statement somewhat. The 
element of prudence or reason is emphasized by 
all. Even Bentham, who is the most radical rep- 
resentative of the modern school, makes the pleas- 
ure of a lifetime the end, and insists that we cannot 
reach this goal without exercising prudence. They 
would all agree, also, that the goal cannot be 
reached by the pursuit of sensuous pleasure, and 
that the exercise of the mental faculties procures 
the greatest happiness. 

An important advance, however, is made by the 
modern advocates of the theory. Locke, Paley, and 
Bentham still incline toward egoistic hedonism, which 
was so prominent in the Greek systems ; the highest 
good is the happiness of the individual, though this 
cannot be realized except through the happiness of 
the race. Hutcheson, Hume, J. S. Mill, and Sidg- 
wick, on the other hand, recognize the sympathetic 
impulse in man as a natural endowment ; the highest 
good is the happiness of the race. But this is a 
difference of principle only, which does not affect 
the practice of human beings ; both systems empha- 

1 In Anniceris we even get a slight tendency to altruism ; he 
advises us to forego our pleasure and submit to pain for the sake 
of friends and country. 



178 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

size the necessity of doing good to our fellows, the 
one because our individual happiness depends upon 
our regard for our neighbor, the other because man 
is by nature disposed to care for the good of his 
fellow-men. 

Another important change is made in modern 
hedonism by J. S. Mill. According to him pleasure 
is the highest good and the standard of morality. 
But the experience of the race teaches that some 
pleasures, as, for example, the pleasures accompany- 
ing the exercise of our higher mental faculties, are 
preferred to others. The race prefers them, how- 
ever, not because they are the most intense, but 
because they differ in hind or quality from those 
accompanying the lower functions. Men evidently 
prefer these pleasures because they cannot help 
themselves, they must prefer them, they prefer them 
absolutely ; it is their nature to prefer them. The 
standard, therefore, is not pleasure as such, but a 
certain quality of pleasure, and man prefers this 
quality absolutely , . 1 Not pleasure as such, but the 
higher pleasures, move us to action. Or, rather, 
since "it is better to be Socrates dissatisfied than 
a fool satisfied," the highest good is really not pleas- 
ure so much as the exercise of the higher mental 
functions. In this form there is no radical differ- 
ence between hedonism and energism. 2 

1 This view reminds one of Martineau's theory of conscience. 
See chap, ii, § 5, p. 45. 

2 See Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chap, ii, end of § 6. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 179 

Not only do we get in Mill an approximation to 
energism, but an approximation to intuitionism. 
According to him both the egoistic and altruistic or 
sympathetic impulses are innate or original posses- 
sions of the human soul. Besides, in so far as we 
make a qualitative distinction between different 
pleasures, absolutely preferring some to others, we 
may be said to possess an innate knowledge of the 
better and the worse, or an innate conscience. In 
Sidgwick this intuitional phase is more pronounced. 
Man is endowed with innate principles : the prin- 
ciple of self-love, the principle of benevolence, and 
the principle of justice. 



CHAPTER VII 

THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD : ENERGISM i 

1. Socrates. — Let us now turn our attention to a 
school of thinkers who deny that pleasure or happi- 
ness is the end of life and the standard of morality, 
and set up what they at least believe to be a differ- 
ent goal. 

Socrates 2 opposed the hedonistic teachings of the 
Sophists, and declared virtue to be the highest good. 
But what is virtue ? Virtue is knowledge. 3 We 
cannot be proficient in any line without knowledge 
of the subject. A man cannot be a successful general 
without a knowledge of military affairs, nor a states- 
man unless he has an insight into the nature and 
purpose of the State. 

But what is knowledge ? To know means to have 
correct concepts of things, to know their purposes, 
aims, or ends, to know what they are good for. 

1 See references under chap. ii. 

2 469-399 b.c. See Xenophon's Memorabilia, translated in 
Bonn's Library ; Plato's Protagoras, Apology, Crito, Symposium, 
etc., in Jowett's translation; Aristotle's Metaphysics, Bk. I, 6. 
Bibliography in Weber. 

8 Xenophon, Memorabilia, Bk. IV, chap, vi, 11 ; Bk. I, chap, i, 
10 ; Bk. II, chap, ix, 5. 

180 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 181 

Everything has its purpose, is good for something, 
especially for man. 1 If that is so, the man who 
knows what things are good for him, will do these 
things, and he alone will be able to realize his de- 
sires, his welfare and happiness. Hence knowledge 
or wisdom (a-oc/ua), without which a man cannot 
attain to happiness (ev tftv, fjSeays £V)^), is the highest 
good (fjLeyio-rov a^aQov). That is to say, virtue is 
the knowledge of good and evil, and the consequent 
doing of good, and the avoidance of evil. Hence 
no man is voluntarily bad nor involuntarily good. 
Vice is due to ignorance. 

Now what is good for man ? What is useful to 
him ? The lawful (vofiifiov), says Socrates. Man 
must obey the laws of the State as well as the un- 
written laws of the gods, i.e., the universal laws of 
morality. To be good or moral is to be in harmony 
with the laws of one's country and human nature. 

Virtue conduces to happiness. But should a con- 
flict arise between virtue and happiness, virtue must 
never be sacrificed to happiness. 2 

2. Plato. — Plato, 3 the pupil and follower of Soc- 
rates, teaches that not pleasure, but insight, knowl- 
edge, the contemplation of beautiful ideas, a life of 
reason, are the highest good. 4 We should seek to 

1 Memorabilia, Bk. I, chap, iv, 7-17 ; Bk. IV, chap, iii, 3 ff. 

2 Bk. II, chap, vii, 10 ; Bk. IV, chap, iv, 4 j Plato's Apology, 
29, 30. 

3 427-347 b.c. See the Dialogues of Plato, especially Thecetetus, 
Phcedo, PJiilebus, Gorgias, Republic, translated by Jowett. 

4 Gorgias, 474 c ff. ; Philebus, 11 b, 14 6, 19 d. 



182 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

free ourselves from the body and the senses, for the 
body is a fetter, the prison-house of the soul, an evil. 
" Wherefore we ought to fly away from earth to 
heaven as quickly as we can, and to fly away is to 
become like God." 1 Philosophy means the separa- 
tion and release of the soul from the body, 2 the 
losing of oneself in the contemplation of ideas, which 
are the true essences of things, the return of the soul 
to its former heavenly home. 

Beside this ascetic ideal of life, Plato also presents 
a somewhat modified ethical scheme, adapted to 
the conditions of the world in which we live. 3 The 
sense-world being a reflection of the ideal world, the 
contemplation of it will give us a glimpse into the 
truth and beauty of the other. Now in such a world 
what is the highest good? The highest good must 
be something perfect, 4 something that does not need 
anything outside of itself, something desirable in 
itself, something the possession of which makes 
other things unnecessary. Now neither pleasure nor 
wisdom as such is a good. A life of pleasure devoid 
of intelligence and wisdom no one would call desir- 
able. Nor would any one choose a life of reason 
that is free from pleasure and pain. The end is a 
fjLLKTos £to?, a mixed life of wisdom and pleasure. In 
such a life pleasure is not the highest factor, but the 
lowest. The pleasure must be controlled by wisdom. 

1 Thecetetus, 176 a. 2 Phcedo, 64-67, 69, 79-84, 114. 

3 See Schwegler, Historij of Greek Philosophy, pp. 228, 232. 
*Tt\eor; Philebus, 20 ff. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 183 

Wisdom produces order, harmony, symmetry, law. 
If pleasure were the highest, then the most intense, 
unbridled pleasure would be the best, which is not' 
the case. The best life is one in which the lower 
soul-forces, the impulses and the animal desires, are 
subordinated to reason, one in which reason com- 
mands and the other elements obey. 

3. The Cynics. — After the death of Socrates, 
Antisthenes, 1 one of his most devoted followers, 
founded the Cynic School, named after the gymna- 
sium of Kynosarges, where he delivered his lectures. 
The Cynics opposed the hedonism of the Cyrenaics, 2 
and exaggerated certain phases of the Socratic doc- 
trine. Pleasure, says Antisthenes, is not the high- 
est good ; indeed, it is no good at all, but an evil. 3 
Then what is the good? The very opposite of pleas- 
ure, 7toVo?, privation, exertion, work, struggle with 
passion, is good. We should make ourselves inde- 
pendent of the things of the world (^ey/cpdreta). 
The man who sets his heart on pleasure, wealth, 
honor, or fame, is doomed to disappointment. Let 
him renounce the uncertain, treacherous gifts of for- 
tune, let him be indifferent to pleasure and pain 
alike ; let him learn to want, and misfortune cannot 
conquer him. Sweet are the pleasures that follow 
labor. Cease desiring, and you will be rich even in 

1 Diogenes Laertius, Bk. VI ; Mullach's Fragments, vol. II, 
261 ff. ; Ritter and Preller's Fragments, pp. 216 ft 

2 See chap, vi, § 3. 

3 " I would rather go mad than feel pleasure," as he once said: 
IxavLrjv fx.a\\ov i) yjadd-qv. — Diogenes Laertius, Bk. VI. 



184 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

a beggar's garb. To desire nothing is the greatest 
wealth. Virtue is the highest and only good. It 
is not, however, necessary to be very learned to be 
virtuous. Virtue consists in action and conduces to 
happiness. 1 

4. Aristotle. — According to Aristotle, 2 all human 
activity has some end in view. This end in turn 
may be the means to another higher end, but there 
must be some ultimate or highest end or good, 
which is desired for its own sake and not as a means 
to something else. Now what is this highest good ? 
For some it consists in wealth, for others in pleasure, 
for still others in honor, wisdom, or virtue. But 
wealth is a means to an end, not an end in itself. 
Pleasure, too, is a good, but not the good. The 
truth is we strive after honor, pleasure, virtue, wis- 
dom, for the sake of something else, which is sought 
after for its own sake. That end is eudsemonia 
(evhainovia), or happiness. In what does happiness 
consist ? The welfare of every being consists in the 
realization of its specific nature. The end or hap- 
piness of man will therefore consist in the realiza- 
tion of that which makes man a man, that is, in the 
exercise of rational activity. The highest good of 
human existence is the exercise of reason. 

Virtue, then, means the proper functioning of the 

1 Diogenes of Sinope, the pupil of Antisthenes, whom Plato 
called a "Socrates gone mad," is an extreme representative of 
cynicism. "A man must not only learn to do without pleasure," 
he says, " he must learn to do with pain." 

2 385-323 b.c. Nicomachean Ethics, translated by Welldon. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 185 

soul. Now the soul is partly reflective or thinking 
or knowing, partly volitional or practical. Hence, 
there are dianoetical virtues (such as wisdom, pru- 
dence, insight) and ethical or practical virtues (such 
as liberality, self-control, courage, pride, magnanim- 
ity, etc.). Ethical virtue consists in the subordi- 
nation of the lower soul-forces or impulses to correct 
reason. The impulses must be governed or con- 
trolled by reason or insight. Virtue is acquired, 
but based on preexisting dispositions of the soul. 
Virtue is the rationalization of impulses. But the 
question arises, When is an impulse rationalized? 
When it keeps the mean between two extremes, 
answers Aristotle. " Virtue is a disposition involv- 
ing deliberate purpose, or choice, consisting in a 
mean that is relative to ourselves, the mean being 
determined by reason, or as a prudent man would 
determine it." 1 

Virtuous activity, then, in a complete or full life 
is the highest good. 2 Pleasure is the necessary and 
immediate consequence of such activity, but it is not 
the end. We should choose virtuous activity even 
though it were not accompanied by pleasure. The 
pleasure depends upon the virtuous activity, and 
only such pleasure as follows virtuous activity is 
good or moral. 3 Certain external goods, however, 



1 Nicomachean Ethics, Bk. II, chap, vi, Welldon's translation, 
p. 50. 

2 " For one swallow does not make spring," Aristotle adds. 

3 Nicomachean Ethics, Bk. II, chap. ix. 



186 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

are indispensable to eudeemonia, namely health, free- 
dom, honor ; certain capacities and talents ; wealth, 
etc. Neither a slave nor a child can be happy. 

5. The Stoics. — The Stoic school, founded by 
Zeno of Citium in the aroa ttolklXt], shortly after 
310 B.C., is the successor of the Cynics. 1 The Stoics 
taught that the chief good is to live according to 
nature. For man this means to live according to 
his nature, i.e. n according to reason, "that universal 
right reason which pervades everything." 2 We live 
according to nature or reason, when we live accord- 
ing to virtue. 

Now what does virtuous action demand ? It de- 
mands that man conquer his passions, for passions 
are the irrational element in us. There are four 
fundamental passions (irdOrf) : pain, fear, desire, 
pleasure (Xvttj], cj>6/3o<;, iiriQv^Ca^ rjhovrj~). These 
passions arise as follows : We have impulses which 
are in themselves good, like the impulse of self-pres- 
ervation. These impulses may become too violent 
and give rise to a false judgment on our part. Such 
a false judgment is a passion. Thus a false judg- 
ment of present and future goods arouses pleasure 
and desire ; of present and future ills, pain and fear. 
All these passions and their different species we 
must combat, for they are irrational ; they are dis- 

1 See Diogenes Laertius, Bk. VII ; Stobseus, Eclogues, Bk. II ; 
Cicero, Be finibus ; the works of Seneca, Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius; 
Ritter and Preller, pp. 392 ff. 

2 Diogenes Laertius, p. 291. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 187 

eases of the soul. It is not enough to be moderate ; 
apathy is the only proper state with reference to 
them. The wise man is without passion, apathetic ; 
he is not affected by fear, desire, pain, or pleasure. 
Virtue, therefore, is identical with apathy. The 
passionless sage is the Stoic ideal. 

Virtue is the highest and only good, vice the only 
evil ; everything else is indifferent : death, sickness, 
poverty, etc., are not evils ; life, health, honor, 
possessions, are not goods. Even the pleasure 
produced by virtue Qxapa) is not an end, but merely 
the natural consequence of virtuous action. 1 The 
wise man is the virtuous man, because he knows 
what to do and what to avoid. 

The Stoic ethics exercised a great influence upon 
Roman thought and action. As the most illustrious 
representatives of the school in later times we may 
mention : Cicero, 2 Lucius Annseus Seneca, 3 Epicte- 
tus, 4 Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, the Emperor. 5 

6. The Neo-Platonists. — According to the later 
Platonists or Neo-Platonists, the universe is an 

1 Strict adherents of the school do not even admit that pleasure 
is a consequence. 

2 t 43 b.c. De finibus bonorum et malorum. English trans- 
lation in Bonn's Library. • 

3 t 65 a.d. Letters to Lucilius. English translation of Seneca 
in Bonn's Library. 

4 Born about 60 a.d. His teachings were preserved by Flavius 
Arrianus in the JEncheiridion, or Manual. English translation by 
Long. 

5 Died 180 a.d. twv els eavrbv /3t/3\i'a. English translation by 
Long. 



188 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS 

emanation from God, the absolute spirit, who trans- 
cends everything that can be conceived or said. 
All the way from intelligence to formless matter the 
emanations become more and more imperfect. Mat- 
ter is the very lowest in the stage of being, devoid 
of form, the principle of all imperfection and evil in 
the world. Yet matter is necessary. Just as light 
must in the end become darkness at the farthest dis- 
tance from its origin, so spirit must become matter. 
But everything that has come from God strives to 
return to Him again. 

Man is the mirror of the universe, the microcosm, 
mind and matter, good and bad. The highest good 
is the pure intellectual existence of the soul, "in 
which the soul has no community with the body, and 
is wholly turned toward reason, and restored to the 
likeness of God." 1 The highest aim of man is to 
become one with God and the supra-sensuous world, 
to lose himself in the absolute. To quote from 
Weber's History of Philosophy : 2 " The artist seeks 
for the idea in its sensible manifestations ; the 
lover seeks for it in the human soul; the philoso- 
pher, finally, seeks for it in the sphere in which it 
dwells without alloy, — in the intelligible world and 
in God. The man who has tasted the delights of 
meditation and contemplation foregoes both art and 
love. The traveller who has beheld and admired a 

1 Plotinus, the chief representative of the school, seemed to he 
ashamed of having a body. 

2 English translation, pp. 178-179. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 189 

royal palace forgets the beauty of the apartments 
when he perceives the sovereign. For the philoso- 
pher, beauty in art, nay, living beauty itself, is but a 
pale reflection of absolute beauty. He despises the 
body and its pleasures in order to concentrate all his 
thoughts upon the only thing that endures forever. 
The joys of the philosopher are unspeakable. These 
joys make him forget, not only the earth, but his 
own individuality; he is lost in the pure intuition of 
the absolute. His rapture is a union (eWo-i?) of the 
human soul with the divine intellect, an ecstasy, a 
flight of the soul to its heavenly home. As long as 
he lives in the body, the philosopher enjoys this 
vision of God only for certain short moments, — 
Plotinus had four such transports, — but what is the 
exception in this life will be the rule and the normal 
state of the soul in the life to come. Death, it is 
true, is not a direct passage to a state of perfection. 
The soul which is purified in philosophy here below 
continues to be purified beyond the grave until it is 
divested of individuality itself, the last vestige of its 
earthly bondage." In short, the highest happiness 
consists in being united with the supra-sensible. 
We must, therefore, withdraw ourselves from the 
world of sense, free ourselves from the body, become 
ascetics. 

We have in this philosophy an exaggerated edition 
of Platonism. If the highest good is mind or intel- 
lectuality or the supra-sensuous, then the sooner we 
get away from the body the better. If the body is 



190 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS 

the prison, the fetter, the chain, the pollution of the 
soul, the sooner we free ourselves from it the better. 1 

7. Hobbes. — Let us now turn to modern times. 
According to Thomas Hobbes, 2 every living being 
strives to preserve itself. It seeks everything that 
furthers this end, avoids everything that defeats it. 
But the end is not always realized. The individual 
does not realize the end because other individuals 
having the same purpose in view come in conflict 
with him. The impulse of self-preservation thus 
produces a war of all against all, bellum omnium con- 
tra omnes, and so really defeats itself. Prudence 
therefore demands the formation of the State, in 
which the individual subordinates his own will to 
the general will, thus making life possible. In the 
State peace and security, the conditions of self-pres- 
ervation, are realized. The highest end is therefore 
self-preservation, or life, of which the State is the 
means. 3 

8. Spinoza. ■ — From this view the ethical system 
of Spinoza 4 does not much differ. He too holds 

1 With these ascetic tendencies in Plato and his successors, 
primitive Christianity had much in common. Christianity was for 
a long time an ascetic religion. It preached the crucifixion of the 
flesh. This world was regarded as a vale of tears, as a grave, and 
heaven as the soul's true home. For the Christian conception of 
life, see the excellent chap, ii, Bk. I, in Paulsen's Ethics. 

2 See chap, ii, § 6 (1). 

8 See Leviathan, especially chaps, vi, xiii, xiv. 

4 1032-1677. Ethics, translated by White ; also in Bonn's 
Library. Selections from Ethics, translated by Fullerton. For 
bibliography, see Weber's History of Philosophy. See also Fuller- 
ton, On Spinozistic Immortality. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 191 

that every being strives to preserve its own exist- 
ence or essence. 1 "As reason makes no demands 
contrary to nature, it demands that every man 
should love himself, should seek that which is useful 
to him — I mean, that which is really useful to him, 
should desire everything which really brings man to 
greater perfection, and should, each for himself, 
endeavor as far as he can to preserve his own being. 
This is as necessarily true as that a whole is greater 
than a part. Again, as virtue is nothing else but 
action in accordance with the laws of one's own 
nature, 2 and as no one endeavors to preserve his 
own being, except in accordance with the laws of his 
own nature, it follows, first, that the foundation of 
virtue is the endeavor to preserve one's own being, 
and that happiness consists in man's power of pre- 
serving his own being ; secondly, that virtue is to be 
desired for its own sake, and that there is nothing 
more excellent or more useful to us, for the sake of 
which we should desire it ; thirdly and lastly, that 
suicides are weak-minded, and are overcome by exter- 
nal causes repugnant to their nature. Further, it 
follows that we can never arrive at doing without all 
external things for the preservation of our being or 

1 Ethics, Part III, prop. vi. 

2 lb., Part IV, prop, xx : " The more every man endeavors, and 
is able to seek what is useful to him — in other words, to pre- 
serve his own being — the more is he endowed with virtue ; on the 
contrary, in proportion as a man neglects to seek what is useful to 
him, that is, to preserve his own being, he is wanting in power." 
See also Part IV, prop. xxiv. 



192 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

living, so as to have no relations with things which 
are outside of ourselves. Again, if we consider our 
mind, we see that our intellect would be more imper- 
fect, if mind were alone, and could understand noth- 
ing besides itself. There are, then, many things 
outside ourselves, which are useful to us, and are, 
therefore, to be desired. Of such none can be dis- 
cerned more excellent than those which are in entire 
agreement with our nature. For if, for example, two 
individuals of entirely the same nature are united, 
they form a combination twice as powerful as either 
of them singly. Therefore, to man there is nothing 
more useful than man — nothing, I repeat, more ex- 
cellent for preserving their being can be wished for 
by men, than that all should so in all points agree, 
that the minds and bodies of all should form, as it 
were, one single mind and one single body, and that 
all should, with one consent, as far as they are able, 
endeavor to preserve their being, and all with one 
consent seek what is useful to them all. Hence, men 
who are governed by reason — that is, who seek what 
is useful to them in accordance with reason — desire 
for themselves nothing which they do not also desire 
for the rest of mankind, and, consequently, are just, 
faithful, and honorable in their conduct." x Now, " in 
life it is before all things useful to perfect the under- 
standing, or reason, as far as we can, and in this alone 
man's highest happiness or blessedness consists, in- 
deed blessedness is nothing else but the contentment 
1 Ethics, Part IV, prop, xviii note. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 193 

of the spirit, which arises from the intuitive knowl- 
edge of God : now, to perfect the understanding is 
nothing else but to understand God, God's attributes, 
and the actions which follow from the necessity of 
His nature." 1 " The mind's highest good is the knowl- 
edge of God, and the mind's highest virtue is to 
know God." 2 

9. Cumberland. — Both Richard Cumberland and 
Lord Shaftesbury also place the highest good in wel- 
fare, not in the welfare of the individual, however, 
but in the common good, by which they mean not 
pleasure, but perfection. 3 Cumberland says : " The 
endeavor, to the utmost of our power, of promoting 
the common good of the whole system of rational 
agents, conduces, as far as in us lies, to the good of 
every part, in which our own happiness, as that of a 
part, is contained. But contrary action produces 
contrary effects, and consequently our own misery, 
as well as that of others." 4 "The greatest possible 
benevolence of every rational agent toward all the 
rest constitutes the happiest state of each and all, so 
far as depends on their own power, and is necessa- 
rily required for their happiness ; accordingly com- 

1 Ethics, Part IV, Appendix iv. 

2 lb., Part IV, prop, xxviii. Translations taken from Bonn's 
Library Edition. 

3 Richard Cumberland, 1632-1719, Be legibus naturce, 1672 ; 
translated into English by Jean Maxwell, 1727. See E. Albee, 
"The Ethical System of Richard Cumberland," Philosophical lie- 
view, 1895. For Shaftesbury, see chap, ii, § 4 (1). 

4 See Albee, " The Ethical System of Richard Cumberland." 



194 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

mon good will be the supreme law." Again, "The 
happiness of each individual ... is derived from the 
best state of the whole system, as the nourishment 
of each member of an animal depends upon the 
nourishment of the whole mass of blood diffused 
through the whole." The common good being the 
end, " such actions as take the shortest way to this 
effect . . . are naturally called ' right,' because of 
their natural resemblance to a right line, which is 
the shortest that can be drawn between any two 
given points, . . . but the rule itself is called 
right, as pointing out the shortest way to the 
end." 

10. Shaftesbury. — Shaftesbury l finds in man two 
kinds of impulses: "selfish or private affections," 
and "natural, kind, or social affections." The self- 
ish affections are directed toward the individual 
welfare or preservation, " private good " ; the social 
affections, toward common welfare, the preservation 
of the system of which the individual forms a part, 
"public good." Just as the health or perfection of 
a bodily organism consists in the harmonious coope- 
ration of all its organs, so the health or perfection of 
the soul consists in the harmonious cooperation of 
the selfish and social affections. An individual is 
good or virtuous when all his inclinations and affec- 
tions conduce to the welfare of his species or the 
system of which he is a part. Virtue is the proper 
balance or harmony between the two impulses. 
1 See chap, ii, § 4 (1). 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 195 

But how can we tell whether our impulses are 
properly balanced? By means of the moral sense, 
as we have already seen, 1 the sense of right and 
wrong, the rational affections. The moral sense is 
original or innate, like the other affections. Just 
as the contemplation of works of art arouses feelings 
of disinterested approbation and disapprobation, so 
the contemplation of human acts and impulses, 
whether of others or ourselves, arouses feelings of 
approval and disapproval. 

Since man is originally a social being, he derives 
his greatest happiness from that which makes for 
the existence of society and the common weal. The 
necessary concomitant of virtue is happiness, just 
as pleasure accompanies the right state of the 
organism. 

11. Darwin. 2 — The modern evolutionists agree 
with this conception. I quote a passage from Dar- 
win's Descent of Man : " In the case of the lower ani- 
mals it seems much more appropriate to speak of 
their social instincts as having been developed for 
the general good rather than for the general happi- 
ness of the species. The term general good may be 
defined as the rearing of the greatest number of indi- 
viduals in full vigor and health, with all their facul- 
ties perfect, under the conditions to which they are 
subjected. As the social instincts both of man and 
the lower animals have no doubt been developed 
by nearly the same steps, it would be found advis- 

i Chap, ii, § 4 (1). 2 See chap, ii, § 7 (2). 



196 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

able, if found practicable, to use the same definition 
in both cases, and to take as the standard of moral- 
ity the general good or welfare of the community 
rather than the general happiness. . . . When a 
man risks his life to save that of a fellow-creature, it 
seems also more correct to say that he acts for the 
general good, rather than for the general happiness 
of mankind. No doubt the welfare and the happi- 
ness of the individual usually coincide ; and a con- 
tented, happy tribe will flourish better than one 
that is discontented and unhappy. We have seen 
that even at an early period in the history of man, 
the expressed wishes of the community will have 
naturally influenced, to a large extent, the conduct 
of each member ; and as all wish for happiness, ' the 
greatest happiness principle ' will have become a 
most important secondary guide and object ; the 
social instinct, however, together with sympathy 
(which leads to our regarding the approbation and 
disapprobation of others), having served as the 
primary impulse and guide. Thus the reproach is 
removed of laying the foundation of the noblest part 
of our nature in the base principle of selfishness ; 
unless, indeed, the satisfaction which every animal 
feels, when it follows its proper instincts, and the dis- 
satisfaction felt when prevented, be called selfish." 1 
12. Stephen. — Leslie Stephen 2 defines the moral 
law " as a statement of the conditions or of a part of 

1 Descent of Man, chap, iv, Part I, Concluding Remarks. 

2 The Science of Ethics, 1882. 



, 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 197 



he conditions essential to the vitality of the social 
tissue." 1 Our moral judgments must condemn 
instincts and modes of conduct which are pernicious 
to the social vitality, and must approve the opposite ; 
but it does not necessarily follow that it must dis- 
approve or approve them because they are per- 
ceived to be pernicious or beneficial. 2 It is essential 
to social vitality that actions result from inner feel- 
ings. Hence the moral law has to be expressed in 
the form, " Be this," not in the form " Do this." 

The utilitarian theory, which makes happiness the 
criterion of morality, coincides approximately with 
the evolutionistic theory, which makes health of the 
society the criterion ; for health and happiness 
approximately coincide. We may infer that the 
typical or ideal character, at any given stage of 
development, the organization, which, as we say, 
represents the true line of advance, corresponds to a 
maximum of vitality. 3 It seems, again, this typical 
form, as the healthiest, must represent not only the 
strongest type, — that is, the type most capable of 
resisting unfavorable influences, — but also the hap- 
piest type ; for every deviation from it affords a 
strong presumption, not merely of liability to the 
destructive processes which are distinctly morbid, 
but also to a diminished efficiency under normal 
conditions. 4 

1 The Science of Ethics, 1882, chap, iv, ii, p. 148. 

2 lb. 3 lb., p. 406. 

4 lb., p. 407. See chap, ix, pp. 359 ff.; also chap, x, pp. 404 ff. 



198 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

13. Jhering. — Rudolph von Jhering 1 advances a 
similar view. All moral laws and customs have as 
their end the weal and prosperity of society. All 
moral norms are social imperatives. All these social 
imperatives owe their existence to social ends. The 
ends of society depend upon its conditions. 2 The 
purpose of morality is the establishment and prosper- 
ity of society. 3 Now, just as a house is not a mere 
mass of stones, society is not a mere aggregate of 
individuals, but a whole made up of individual mem- 
bers, and formed into a unity by a community of 
ends. The part must adapt itself to the whole if 
the whole is to stand. Hence the postulate of a 
social norm which prescribes to the individual such 
conduct as is necessary to the social order in so far 
as his own inclinations do not serve society, and the 
necessity of securing compliance with the norm by 
means of compulsion. But mere mechanical or 
legal compulsion is not enough. We have also psy- 
chological compulsion. The advantage of psycho- 
logical compulsion lies in the fact that it stops 
before no relation in life ; it presses in everywhere 
like the atmosphere, into the interior of the home as 
well as to the steps of the throne — in places where 
mechanical compulsion can have no effect. 

We may say that whatever human conduct is 
necessary to the existence of society is a constituent 
of the moral order and falls within the realm of 

1 Der Zioeck im Becht, 2 vols, 1874. 

2 Ib. y Vol. II, pp. 95 ff. 8 lb., Vol. II, pp. 134 ff. 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 199 

moral law. As now the individual is necessary to 
society, whatever is required that he may live, even 
eating and drinking, comes under the view of morals. 
Even acts which spring from egoistic motives are 
objectively moral when they further the ends of 
society. Even our pleasures, recreations, and enjoy- 
ments have high objective moral significance, for 
they are the indispensable sources of our strength, 
and this benefits not merely us, but society. 

One thought runs through all creation — self- 
preservation. Man raises himself up to the moral 
plane when he gains the insight that his individual 
self-preservation is conditioned by his social self- 
preservation. The means which nature employs in 
order to realize the law of self-preservation is pleas- 
ure. The necessary condition of pleasure is well- 
being. Well-being is possession of full powers. 
The striving after well-being is called eudsemonism. 
Social eudaemonism is the principle of morals. 
Wherein the weal and happiness of society consists, 
the history of mankind alone can evolve. Eudse- 
monism and utilitarianism are the same thing, from 
different points of view, the former from that of end, 
the latter from that of means. 1 

14. Wundt and Contemporaries. — Wundt 2 reaches 
a similar result. He holds that the proper way to 
investigate the moral end is to begin with the em- 
pirical moral judgments. Find the moral end in 

1 Der Zweck im Becht, Vol. II, chap, ix, pp. 204 ff. 

2 Ethics, translated in 3 vols. 



200 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

particular cases, and by means of them proceed to 
the general ethical principle. Such an investigation 
will show that the individual, be it oneself or 
another, cannot be the ultimate end of morality. 
Happiness may be an important motive to the will 
and even an indispensable means for realizing the 
moral ends, but it cannot be regarded as the moral 
end itself. The universal spiritual productions of 
humanity, such as the State, art, science, and univer- 
sal culture, are the objects of morality attainable by 
us. But since the very essence of morality is a 
ceaseless striving, the moral steps attained must not 
be regarded as a lasting end. The ultimate end of 
moral striving becomes an ideal never to be attained 
in reality. Thus the ethical ideal is the ultimate 
end ; the progressive moral perfection of humanity 
the immediate end, of human morality. 1 

To the same school belong H. Hoffding, 2 F. 
Paulsen, 3 Th. Ziegler, 4 A. Dorner, 5 J. Seth, 6 and 
others. 

15. Kant. — Even Kant, 7 who regards himself as 
an opponent of all teleology, may, in my opinion, be 
classed among the energists. According to him, the 
highest good is not pleasure, neither my own nor 
that of mankind, but virtue, duty for duty's sake. 

1 Ethics, Part III. 

2 Ethik, 1887 ; Ethische Principienlehre, 1897. 

8 Systeyn of Ethics, edited and translated by Frank Thilly. 

4 Sittliches Sein und sitthches Werden. 

5 Das menschliche Handeln. 

6 A Study of Ethical Principles. 7 See chap, ii, § 7 (1). 



THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 201 

The highest good in the world is a good will, and a 
good will is good not because of what it performs, 
but good in itself. That is, it acts from respect of 
the law, from a pure sense of duty. 1 Now rational 
creatures alone have the faculty of acting according 
to the conception of laws, i.e., according to principles, 
i.e., have a will. 2 The conception of an objective 
principle, in so far as it is obligatory for a will, is 
called a command (of reason), and the formula of 
the command is called an imperative. 3 There is 
an imperative which commands a certain conduct 
immediately. It concerns not the matter of the 
action, or its intended result, but its form and the 
principle of which it is itself the result. 4 This is 
the categorical imperative. In order that this 
should be valid, it must be a necessary truth. This 
law follows necessarily from the very nature of the 
rational will. 5 If there is anything of absolute 
worth, an end in itself, the reason must command it. 6 
Now rational nature exists as an end in itself. 
Every man necessarily conceives his own existence 
as an end in itself, and must therefore regard every 
other rational creature's existence in the same way. 
Hence the will must give itself this law, So act as 



to treat humanity, whether in thine own person or 
in that of any other, in every case as an end withal, 
never as a means only. This principle is essentially 
identical with this other : Act upon a maxim which, 

1 Abbott's translation, pp. 12, 16, 55, 164 ff., 180, 241. 

2 p. 29. 3 p. 30. * p. 33. 5 p. 44. 6 pp. 46 ff. 



202 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

at the same time, involves its own universal validity 
for every rational being. 1 For if I am only to act 
so that my acts can become universal, I cannot will 
to use any other rational creature as a means with- 
out willing that he use me as a means. The rational 
will therefore imposes universal laws, laws that hold 
for all, laws acceptable to all, which makes possible 
a kingdom of ends. 2 Every rational being must so 
act as if he were by his maxims in every case a 
legislating member in the universal kingdom of 
ends. 3 

Translated into popular language, this ethical phi- 
losophy of Kant's seems to me to agree with the 
systems which we have just been considering. Con- 
science categorically commands certain forms of 
conduct, regardless of their effects. When we 
examine the forms of conduct enjoined by con- 
science, we find that a common principle is applicable 
to all ; they are all fit for something, they all con- 
duce to an end or highest good, — something of ab- 
solute worth, something absolutely desired by human 
nature, or as Kant states it, something that reason 
or the categorical imperative commands. Now what 
is this end? It seems to be the good of society. 
u So act that thou canst will the maxim of thy 
action to become universal law." That is, do not 
lie and steal, for thou canst not will that lying and 
stealing become universal. Why not? "For with 
such a law there would be no promises at all, since 

1 Abbott's translation, p. 56. 2 p. 52. 8 p. 57. 






THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 203 

it would be in vain to allege my intention in regard 
to my future actions to those who would not believe 
this allegation, or if they over-hastily did so would 
pay me back in my own coin. Hence my maxim, as 
soon as it should be made a universal law, would 
necessarily destroy itself." The implication here 
seems to be that society would go to pieces if the 
principles underlying certain acts should become 
universal. 

Kant also declares that every man necessarily 
conceives his own existence as an end in itself. 
This means that every man has egoistic impulses. 
And because he is egoistic he must have a due re- 
gard for others, he must treat them with respect, 
for otherwise he cannot expect them to treat him 
with respect. This is what he means when he says, 
So act as to treat humanity, whether in thine own 
person or in that of any other, in every case as an 
end withal, never as a means only. This is a philo- 
sophical statement of the command, Do unto others 
as you would have them do unto you. The king- 
dom of ends would be impossible unless every man 
cared for his own welfare and that of his fellows ; 
therefore such principles of morality are implanted 
in his heart as to make a kingdom of ends possible. 1 

16. G-eneral Survey. — In conclusion, let us note 
the progress which has been made in the history of 
the theory discussed in this chapter. The Greek 

1 Compare with this Sidgwick's system, as given in chap, vi, 
§13. 



204 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

energists regarded as the highest good, the exer- 
cise of reason, or the development of knowledge, 
and tended to ignore the emotional and impulsive 
factors of the soul-life. Modern energists gener- 
ally take a broader view of the highest good, 
defining it not merely as the exercise of the in- 
tellectual functions, but as the preservation and 
development of life as a whole. Happiness as a 
phase of soul-life receives its appropriate place as 
a part of the end or highest good, and the the- 
ory of energism more closely approximates hedo- 
nism. Pleasure is a means to the end of perfection, 
an accompaniment of virtuous action, a sign that 
the goal is being realized. The altruistic element 
is also gradually introduced into the modern con- 
ception of energism. The preservation and de- 
velopment of the race is looked upon as the ideal of 
life and the standard of morality. Man is no longer 
conceived as striving merely for his own individual 
perfection and happiness, but for the good of the 
whole. Sympathy takes its place by the side of 
self-love as a natural endowment of the soul. 1 In 
the evolutionistic school we also get a closer approxi- 
mation to intuitionism. Man strives after the preser- 
vation and perfection of himself and his fellows ; and 
conscience is largely an inherited instrument in the 
service of this ideal or goal. It demands what is good 
for man as a member of society ; it is the expression 
of the general will in the individual heart. 
1 Compare chap, vi, § 14. 



CHAPTER VIII 

CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM* 

1. The Conception of the Highest Good. — Our his- 
torical review has shown us that there are different 
answers to the question, What is the end of life and 
the standard of morality ? One school holds that 
pleasure — all the way from sensuous pleasure to 
intellectual pleasure, and all the way from the 
pleasure of the individual to the pleasure or hap- 
piness of humanity — is the highest good. An- 
other combats this notion, and sets up as the 
end, not pleasure, but virtue, knowledge, perfec- 
tion, self-preservation, or the preservation of society. 
We pointed out the fact that the Greeks concerned 
themselves with the question of the highest good, 
while the modern thinkers formulate the problem 
in a somewhat different manner, asking, What is 
the ground of moral distinctions; what makes an 

1 For criticism of hedonism, see Plato, Philebus and Republic, 
Bk. IX; Aristotle, Ethics; Kant, Abbott's translation; Darwin, 
Descent of Man, chap, iv ; Lecky, European Morals, chap, i ; 
Sidgwick, Methods, Bk. I, chap, iv ; Bradley, Ethical Studies, III, 
VII ; Green, Prolegomena to Ethics, Bk. II, chap, ii ; Bk. Ill, 
chaps, i, iv ; Bk. IV, chaps, iii, iv ; Martineau, Types, Vol. II ; 
Murray, Handbook of Ethics, Bk. II, Part. I, chap, i ; Simmel, 
Einleitung, Vol. I, chap, iv ; Hyslop, Elements, pp. 349-385 ; 
Paulsen, Ethics, pp. 250 ff. 

205 



206 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

act right or wrong ; what is the criterion, or stand- 
ard, or ideal of conduct, called moral ? 

Let us now examine the answers which have been 
given to the question as the ancient Greeks asked it, 
and try to reach some conclusion with respect to it. 

And first, let us inquire, What do we mean by the 
summum bonum or the highest good ? 

We may mean by the summum bonum : (1) some- 
thing which humanity prizes as the most valuable 
thing in the world, something of absolute worth, 
for the sake of which everything else that is desired 
is desired. We may say: (a) that humanity con- 
sciously mid deliberately sets up this good as its goal 
or ideal; or (£) that men are urged to action by 
this good, that this good is the motive of all action 
without being clearly and distinctly conceived as 
an ideal. 

Or we may mean, not that men consciously or 
unconsciously strive after a certain end, but (2) that 
a certain end or result is realized in human conduct. 
This end or result may be desired by some intelli- 
gence outside of man, or it may be a purely mechani- 
cal consequence of the laws of nature. Thus we may 
find that a certain organ in the body realizes a certain 
end, that it serves a certain purpose, without desiring 
that purpose, or, in fact, knowing anything about it. 
We may attempt to explain this by saying that the 
purpose was desired by an intelligence outside or 
inside of the organ, — which would lead us into 
metaphysics, — or, that it was simply the effect of 
certain natural conditions. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 207 

Or the proposition may mean, not that a certain 
end or ideal is desired by humanity, nor that it is 
realized by humanity, but (3) that humanity ought 
to desire it. 

Let us turn to the hedonistic theory and examine 
it in the light of the preceding reflections. 

2. Pleasure as the Highest Grood. — According to 
the hedonistic theory, pleasure is the highest good or 
end. Let us take this to mean that all human beings 
strive after pleasure. By pleasure we may mean posi- 
tive or active pleasure, or freedom from pain, repose 
of spirit, peace of mind ; sensuous pleasure, or intel- 
lectual pleasure ; the pleasure of self, or the pleasure 
of others; momentary pleasure, or the pleasure of 
a lifetime. Now if the theory maintains that all 
men strive after pleasures of sense, that these are 
the highest good, it cannot be upheld. Men do not 
desire sensuous pleasures in preference to all others. 
"We may say that they desire both kinds of pleasure, 
and that if any are preferred, it is the so-called higher 
pleasures rather than the others. With the progress 
of civilization, the race comes to care more for intel- 
lectual and moral pleasures than for the so-called 
bodily enjoyments. This truth has been recognized 
by such hedonists as Democritus, Epicurus, Mill, 
Sidgwick, and others. Again, if the theory means 
by pleasure the pleasure of the moment, it can be 
easily refuted. Indeed, perhaps no hedonist, not 
even Aristippus, ever recommended that we sacrifice 
the future to the present. It does not require much 



208 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

experience to discover that certain pleasures are fol- 
lowed by pain, and that a whole life may be wrecked 
by the pleasure of a moment. u Der Wahn ist kurz, 
die Reu' ist lang." Rational creatures are able to 
judge of the future by the past, and will, therefore, 
be willing to forego a present pleasure and even to 
accept a present pain for the sake of a more enduring 
future pleasure. 

(1) Let us interpret the theory to mean that men 
universally strive after pleasure, using the term 
pleasure in the widest and most favorable sense. 
Now, if we are to understand by this that every 
human being consciously sets up as the ideal of his 
conduct, pleasure or happiness, or freedom from pain, 
and systematically compares all his acts with this 
standard, selecting such as tend to produce pleasure 
and rejecting the opposites, the theory cannot stand. 
It cannot be proved that all men have clear ideals of 
life, and that they govern their lives in consistent 
harmony with them. Much less can it be proved 
that this ideal is pleasure. We cannot imagine the 
average man as saying to himself, Does this act 
agree with my ideal of life ; will this mode of con- 
duct be in harmony with my ideal of pleasure ? 

(2) But perhaps his acts are determined by pleas- 
ure after all, though he may not know it until he 
begins to reflect upon his states of consciousness. 
That is to say, the hedonistic theory may teach, 
All human acts are prompted by pleasure ; the desire 
to get pleasure and to avoid pain is the principle 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 209 

governing all conduct; pleasure is the only motive 
of action. Stated in this form the problem is a 
psychological problem, and must be solved by the 
science of psychology. We shall therefore have to 
investigate the psychology of action before we can 
give a satisfactory answer to the question under 
discussion. 

3. The Antecedents of Action. — The first ques- 
tion which we shall ask ourselves here is this, What 
are the psychical antecedents of action, z.e., the states 
of consciousness leading to an act or movement? 
What takes place in consciousness before a man 
acts or moves, in consequence of which he is said 
to act? 1 

(1) Sometimes movements occur without being 
preceded by any conscious states. The movements 
governing circulation and metabolism are largely 
reflex or mechanical; they are not under the con- 
trol of consciousness, and not even accompanied by 
consciousness. Other reflex movements, like the 
contraction of the pupil regulating the amount of 
light received by the retina, likewise belong to this 
category. 2 

(2) In other cases reflex movements are followed 
or accompanied by conscious states. A strong 
atmospheric concussion may cause a violent shock 
in my entire nervous system, producing widespread 
movements, and arising in consciousness as a loud 

1 See the standard works on psychology. 

2 See Jodl, Lehrbuch der Psychologies p. 416. 



210 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

sound. Here it is not the sensation of sound that 
produces the movements ; nay, what produces the 
former at the same time produces the latter. 

(3) Sometimes movements follow conscious states 
immediately. Certain psychical states are accom- 
panied or followed by movements in the body over 
which we have no control, and movements of the body, 
which we may learn to control. Let us look at some 
of these. 

(a) The perception or thought of certain things 
may be accompanied or followed by intra-organic 
changes of all kinds (in the vasomotor, circula- 
tory, respiratory systems, in the digestive appara- 
tus, etc.), as well as by more pronounced physical 
reactions, such as laughing, weeping, screaming, 
etc., movements of attack and defence, gestures, 
exclamations, facial movements, etc. Sometimes, 
especially in children, the mere sight of a move- 
ment leads to imitative movements. In all these 
cases a fixed path seems to have been formed be- 
tween certain brain parts and certain muscles, 
which are transmitted from generation to genera- 
tion. We might call such movements instinctive. 

(b~) Often the mere perception or thought of a 
movement or object is followed by a movement 
which has been learned, without the intervention 
of any other psychical element. A person may, 
upon seeing a piano, begin to play in an almost 
mechanical way, or grasp at an object before him 
without really intending to do so. Or his thought 




CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 211 



maybe followed by incipient movements of the vocal 
organs, without his having the slightest knowledge 
of what is taking place. 1 A strong association seems 
to have been formed, by practice, between certain 
ideas and certain movements, so that when the 
former arise in consciousness, the latter immediately 
follow. Whenever a movement follows immediately 
upon an idea, the action is called ideo-motor. 2 

(<?) Again, we may have the idea of a move- 
ment plus a feeling of pressure toward it. Here 
the whole soul seems to thrust itself in the direc- 
tion of a certain movement. This process is 
attended with pleasurable feelings, which easily 
change into pain, when the pressure becomes too 
great, or when the impulse to perform the move- 
ment is balked. The physiological condition of 
the pressure feeling is most likely the energy 
stored up in the brain cells (which produces the 
movement) together with the excitations caused 
in the brain by muscular movements accompanying 
attention. The sight of a person who has insulted 
me may arouse in me a strong desire to strike him. 
I feel that I have to hold myself back, as it were, 

1 Steinthal calls attention to the contagious effect of the move- 
ments of the Flagellants, Tarantella dancers, etc., in this connec- 
tion. Motions become contagious. When thousands cry vive 
V Empereur, the Republican and Bourbon cannot resist. We can 
recall no movements without repeating the respective innervations. 
This explains actions performed by men who fear them, — hurling 
oneself from a tower, etc. Steinthal's JEthik, pp. 330 ff. 

2 See Carpenter, Mental Physiology, and others. 



212 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

and the more I restrain myself the more I feel 
impelled to strike the blow. Here almost any move- 
ment will afford relief. We might call these acts 
impulsive acts. 

(c?) At other times a feeling of pleasure or a feel- 
ing of pain, or an anticipation of pleasure or pain, 
seems to push itself in between the idea and the act. 
This means simply that the idea is suffused with 
pleasure or pain, and that no movement will take 
place until these feelings are present. I make a 
movement ; it gives me pleasure and I continue it, 
or it produces pain, and I stop it or make another. 
Or I think of a movement to be made, expect it to 
be pleasurable, and therefore make it. 

(e) Most frequently many of these states together, 
i.e., ideas, feelings of pressure, feelings of pleasure, 
feelings of aversion, feelings of pain, precede the 
discharge of a movement. 

(4) In all cases mentioned above, the act takes 
place without the intervention of a so-called decision 
of the will. Let us now examine states in which 
this element enters. 

The question here is, — What are the elements in- 
volved in willing as such, and what are the antece- 
dents leading to an act of will, i.e., what makes men 
will what they will ? What takes place in conscious- 
ness when I will something, and what has taken 
place there before I willed it ? 

Let us take a typical case of willing, one which 
everybody would accept as such. I am considering 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 213 

a certain end or result, be it a specific act, or a whole 

scries of acts, or a train of thought. J have in con- 
sciousness the idea of an cud or purpose or projeel or 

something that has not yet been done, but ma\ In- 
done. The end may be a vague one; I may have 
nothing but a hazy outline of the result to be 
achieved, or it maybe clearly defined: I may have 
worked it out carefully, even to the details. J may 
be said to will this end or result when I assume a 
certain attitude toward it, when I decide that it shall 
be done, when I utter t\m fiat ; or decide that it shall 
not be done, or utter the veto. In the one case I say 
yes, in the other no. A peculiar state of conscious- 
ness surrounds the idea of the result, a state of con- 
sciousness to which I give expression in language 
by saying, I will; my mind is made up. We call 
this state of consciousness or process in which the 
ego decides for or against the realization of an idea. 
an act of will. 1 Ziehen calls this state which 
accompanies the idea of an act in willing, "a positive 
emotional tone." 2 Perhaps we had better speak of 
it, however, as decision, as an attitude of the ego 
toward its project. 3 Hoffding defines it as follows: 
" Volition proper is characterized psychologically by 

1 By will I do not mean a substantial entity, a metaphysical 
essence or force that produces the act (Schopenhauer), but simply 
the process itself which introspection reveals to us. 

2 See Introduction to Physiological Psychology, chap, xiv, pp. 
265 ff. 

3 James speaks of it as the voluntary fiat, the volitional man- 
date, the mental consent. 



214 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

the ideas of the end of the action and the means to 
its realization, and by a vivid feeling of the worth of 
that end." 1 

The drama of willing is closed when this peculiar 
process enters. It makes no difference whether the 
thing willed is ever realized or not. I may will to 
pursue a certain line of conduct, and afterwards 
change my mind about it. I may will to perform an 
act and never have an opportunity of doing it, or I 
may will it and find that I have not the power to 
carry it out. I have willed it when I have decided 
that I am going to do it, when it has received my 
sanction. If the act willed is a possible one, it will 
follow the act of will, the decision, as soon as the ideas 
of the movements to be made (the kinsesthetic 
ideas, as they are called by the psychologists) or the 
ideas initiating these movements (the remote ideas, 
as James calls them) arise in consciousness. We are 
utterly in the dark as to how the process takes place ; 
we simply know, for example, that when we will to 
move the arm, it moves, and when we will to move 
the ear, it does not move. 2 The essential element in 
an act of will is this fiat or veto, this volitional man- 

1 Psychology, pp. 308-356. See Steinthal's Ethik : " Will is the 
conscious idea whose realization is approved of because its result, 
the caused alteration in the external world, is also presented and 
desired." 

2 All that we can do is to show how such kinsesthetic ideas are 
produced, and that when they are present in consciousness they 
may be accompanied by movements. See the psychologies of 
Lotze, Bain, Preyer, Baumann, James, which show how we learn 
to make movements. 






CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 



215 



date, the decision or " cutting short of the process of 
deliberation," this determination, selective volition, 
or choice. 1 Unless this element is present, we cannot 
be said to will in the common sense of that term. 
Movements may be made, however, without the 
presence of this factor. Not all the acts performed 
by us are willed in the sense in which we have just 
spoken of willing ; not every conscious act, in other 
words, is a willed act. Instincts, impulses, desires, 
ideo-motor action, etc., are not acts of the will ; 
they are not necessarily willed, though, of course, 
they may be. In order to be willed in the real sense 
of the term, they need the consent or assent we have 
spoken of. We frequently perform acts impulsively 
and excuse ourselves by saying that we did not intend 
them, that we could not help ourselves. 2 

4. The Antecedents of Volition. — We have found 
thus far that men are prompted to action by their 



1 See Ladd's Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, pp. 
613 ff. 

2 It has become customary in modern psychology to extend the 
term will so as to make it synonymous with psychic energy. It is 
held that attention is involved in every state of consciousness, that 
no state can come to consciousness or be kept in consciousness 
without an act of attention. Just as a certain amount of physical 
energy must be present in the brain before an excitation can be 
produced there, so a certain amount of psychical energy must 
be present in consciousness before a state of consciousness can 
arise. This energy, or force, is called by Schopenhauer will, by 
Wundt and his followers will, attention, apperception, or conation. 
According to this view, every mental act is an act of will, and 
every physical movement that is preceded by consciousness is the 
same. We have preferred to use the term will in a narrower sense. 



216 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

ideas, feelings, instincts, impulses, will, and combina- 
tions of these factors. We cannot say that feelings 
of pleasure are the only motives to action. But 
perhaps feelings of pleasure are the only motives 
to willed action, in the sense in which we have been 
using this term. Let us therefore investigate the 
antecedents of willing or volition a little more 
closely. 

Let us ask, What causes me to decide for or 
against a project or end, or, rather, what happens in 
my consciousness prior to the decision or fiat ? 

Sometimes the bare idea of an end is sufficient to 
call forth the decision of the will. When the clock 
strikes eight I think of meeting my class, and with- 
out a moment's hesitation I utter the mental yes. 
Sometimes the decision is prompted by an instinct, 
an impulse, a wish, or a desire, by a feeling of pleas- 
ure or pain, or by the expectation of a pleasure or 
pain. I may will a course of conduct because I 
love or desire it, or because it promises me pleasure 
or freedom from pain, or because all these ele- 
ments unite to gain my consent. Sometimes I feel 
impelled to act in a certain way which promises me 
pleasure, but feel a moral obligation to say no. It 
may require a severe effort on my part to say no, to 
decide against an act which is so charming ; I seem- 
ingly have to force myself to consent to a course, 
which I finally do with a heavy heart. 1 Sometimes 

1 This feeling of effort is frequently spoken of as the will, or 
soul, in action ; here we are supposed to feel the soul working, 






CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 217 

te consent is not obtained until a great many rea- 
sons for and against a line of conduct have been con- 
sidered, and until the agent understands the relation 
of the act to his desires or impulses or hopes or 
moral aims. 1 I may say yes to a line of conduct 
when I discover by reasoning or otherwise that it 
agrees with an ideal of mine, an ideal which I have 
already chosen by an act of will. 

5. Conclusions. — Our main conclusions here are : — 

(1) Not all human conscious action is willed 
action. 

(2) Man is prompted to action by his instincts, 
impulses, desires, feelings, thoughts, perceptions, 
and volitions, i.e., consciousness in every shape 
and form tends to be followed by action. 

(3) Man is determined to will by his instincts, 
impulses, desires, feelings, thoughts, perceptions, 
i.e., any state of consciousness may cause the ego to 
render a decision ; and hence, 

(4) It cannot be true that pleasure alone deter- 
mines action or volition. 

6. The Hedonistic Psychology of Action. — Let us 
now look at the hedonistic psychology itself, and 

"the dull, dead heave of the will" (see James, Psychology, 
chapter on ' ' The Will " ) . But this feeling, whatever it may be, is not 
the fiat, or veto, itself, though it may be necessary to bring about 
the fiat, or veto. The view which identifies will with mental 
activity, and regards all psychic energy as will, will look upon 
the effort-feeling as a most typical case of willing, or soul-action. 

1 See James, Psychology, chapter on "The Will," the reasonable 
type of willing. 



218 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

subject it to criticism. It asserts that all men are 
prompted to action either by pleasure or pain. This 
may mean that all action, both voluntary and non- 
voluntary (in our sense), is caused by pleasure and 
pain ; or, that only willed action is determined in 
that way, i.e., that pleasure and pain are the sole 
motives of willing. 

In either case the sole motive may be : — 

(1) Some variety of pleasure or pain, present or 
apprehended ; that is, pleasure or pain, or the idea 
of pleasure or pain ; 

(2) Always a feeling of present pleasure or pain; 

(3) A feeling of pain alone ; or, 

(4) Unconscious pleasure or pain, or an uncon- 
scious idea of pleasure or pain. 

7. Present or Apprehended Pleasure-Pain as the 
Motive. — Interpreting the theory in the first sense, 
it means that actions are performed or not performed 
because they give us or promise us pleasure or pain. 
To quote Bain, 1 a typical hedonistic psychologist : 
" A few repetitions of the fortuitous concurrence of 
pleasure and a certain movement will lead to the 
forging of an acquired connection under the Law of 
Retentiveness and Contiguity, so that, at an after 
time, the pleasure or its idea shall evoke the proper 
movement." 2 " The remembrance, notion, or antici- 
pation of a feeling can operate in essentially the 
same way as the real presence. . . . Without 
some antecedent of pleasurable or painful feeling, 
1 Emotions and Will, 3d edition, pp. 303-504. 2 lb., chap, i, § 8. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 219 

— actual or ideal, primary or derivative, — the will 
cannot be stimulated. . . . There is at bottom of 
every genuine voluntary impulse some one variety 
of the many forms wherein pain or pleasure takes 
possession of the conscious mind." 1 "Every object 
that pleases, engages, charms, or fascinates the mind, 
whether present, prospective or imagined, whether 
primitive or generated by association, — is a power 
to urge us to act, an end of pursuit ; everything that 
gives pain, suffering, or by whatever name we choose 
to designate the bad side of our experience, is a 
motive agent in like manner." 2 The same remarks 
are made to apply to higher acts of willing, accord- 
ing to the same authority. " In this whole subject 
of deliberation, therefore, there is no exception fur- 
nished against the general theory of the will, or the 
doctrine, maintained in the previous pages, that, in 
volition, the executive is uniformly put in motion by 
some variety of pleasure or pain, present or appre- 
hended, cool or excited." 3 "It is not necessary, 
however, it is not a condition of our enjoyment, that 
we should be every moment occupied with the 
thought of the subjective pleasure or pain connected 
with our pursuits ; we are set in motion by these, 
and then we let them drop out of view for a time." 4 

1 Emotions and Will, chap, iii, §8, pp. 354 ff. 2 lb., p. 357. 

3 lb. , chap, vii, p. 416. See also pp. 420 ff. : "A voluntary act (as 
well as some acts not voluntary) is accompanied with conscious- 
ness, or feeling ; of which there may be several sorts. The original 
motive is some pleasure or pain, experienced or conceived." 

4 lb., p. 347. See also Jodl, Lehrbuch der Psychologie, pp. 425*, 
719 ff., 726. 



220 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

That is, men think and act in order to procure 
pleasure and to avoid pain. Thus, for example, I am 
studying philosophy because of the pleasure I am 
deriving from it now, or because I expect pleasure 
hereafter. And I assist my fellow-men in their 
struggle for existence for the sake of the happiness 
my conduct procures for me. Pleasure, or the idea 
of it, in every case stimulates me to act as I do. 

(1) The psychology of action does not seem to me 
to bear out this view. Pleasure, or the idea of pleas- 
ure, is, of course, an antecedent to volition and 
action, but it is not the only one by any means. I 
do not necessarily eat for the pleasure it gives me, 
nor do I get angry for the enjoyment of the thing. 
I do not necessarily obey the moral law because I 
get, or expect to get, pleasure, or desire to avoid 
pain. As was noticed before, psychology presents 
us with countless instances in which acts follow im- 
mediately upon the appearance in consciousness of 
certain ideas. As Professor James says : " So wide- 
spread and searching is this influence of pleasures 
and pains upon our movements that a premature 
philosophy has decided that these are our only spurs 
to action, and that wherever they seem to be absent, 
it is only because they are so far on among the 
4 remoter ' images that prompt the action that they 
are overlooked. This is a great mistake, however. 
Important as is the influence of pleasures and pains 
upon our movements, they are far from being our 
only stimuli. With the manifestations of instinct 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 221 

and emotional expression, for example, they have 
absolutely nothing to do. Who smiles for the 
pleasure of the smiling, or frowns for the pleasure of 
the frown? Who blushes to escape the discomfort 
of not blushing? Or who in anger, grief, or fear is 
actuated to the movements which he makes by the 
pleasures which they yield? In all these cases the 
movements are discharged fatally by the vis a tergo 
which the stimulus exerts upon a nervous system 
framed to respond in just that way. The objects of 
our rage, love, or terror, the occasions of our tears 
and smiles, whether they be present to our senses, or 
whether they be merely represented in idea, have 
this peculiar sort of impulsive power. The impulsive 
quality of mental states is an attribute behind which 
we cannot go. Some states of mind have more of it 
than others, some have it in this direction, and some 
in that. Feelings of pleasure and pain have it, and 
perceptions and imaginations of fact have it, but 
neither have it exclusively or peculiarly. It is of 
the essence of all consciousness (or of the neural pro- 
cess which underlies it) to instigate movement of 
some sort. That with one creature and object it 
should be of one sort, with others of another sort, is 
a problem for evolutionary history to explain. How- 
ever the actual impulsions may have arisen, they 
must now be described as they exist ; and those per- 
sons obey a curiously narrow teleological superstition 
who think themselves bound to interpret them in 
every instance as effects of the secret solicitancy of 



222 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

pleasure, and repugnancy of pain. If the thought of 
pleasure can impel to action, surely other thoughts 
may. Experience only can decide which thoughts 
do." 1 Or in the words of Darwin, who, though not a 
professed psychologist, has observed more carefully 
than many of them : " All the authors whose works 
I have consulted, with a few exceptions, write as if 
there must be a distinct motive for every action, and 
that this must be associated with some pleasure or 
displeasure. But man seems often to act impul- 
sively, that is, from instinct or long habit, without 
any consciousness of pleasure, in the same manner 
as does probably a bee or ant, when it blindly fol- 
lows its instincts. Under circumstances of extreme 
peril, as during a fire, when a man endeavors to save 
a fellow-creature without a moment's hesitation, he 
can hardly feel pleasure ; and still less has he time 
to reflect on the dissatisfaction which he might sub- 
sequently experience if he did not make the attempt. 
Should he afterward reflect upon his own conduct, 
he would feel that there lies within him an impul- 
sive power widely different from a search after 
pleasure or happiness ; and this seems to be the 
deeply planted social instinct." 2 

1 Psychology, chapter on " The Will," Vol. IT, pp. 549 ff. Com- 
pare with this Guyau, La morale contemporaine, p. 425 : " We 
think, we feel, and the act follows. There is no need, therefore, of 
invoking the aid of an exterior pleasure, no need of a middle term 
or bridge to pass from one to the other of these two things : 
thought — action. " 

2 The Descent of Man, p. 120. See also Sidgwick, Methods of 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 223 

The urgency with which an idea can compel the 
attention and dominate consciousness is what gives it 
its motor force. " Let it once so dominate," says 
Professor James, " let no other ideas succeed in dis- 
placing it, and whatever motor effects belong to it 
by nature will inevitably occur — its impulsion, in 
short, being given to boot, and will manifest itself as 
a matter of course. This is what we have seen in 
instinct, in emotion, in common ideo-motor action, 
in hypnotic suggestion, in morbid impulsion, and in 
voluntas invito,, — the impelling idea is simply the 
one which possesses the attention. It is the same 
where pleasure and pain are the motor spurs — they 
drive other thoughts from consciousness at the same 
time that they instigate their own characteristic 
4 volitional' effects. ... In short, one does not see any 
case in which the steadfast occupancy of conscious- 
ness does not appear to be the prime condition of 
impulsive power. It is still more obviously the 
prime condition of inhibitive power. What checks 

Ethics, "Pleasure and Desire," pp. 52 f. : "Thus a man of weak 
self-control, after fasting too long, may easily indulge his appetite 
for food to an extent which he knows to be unwholesome ; and 
that not because the pleasure of eating appears to him, even in 
the moment of indulgence, at all worthy of consideration in com- 
parison with the injury to his health, but merely because he feels 
an impulse to eat food, too powerful to be resisted. Thus, again, 
men have sacrificed all the enjoyments of life, and even life itself, 
to obtain posthumous fame ; not from any illusory belief that they 
would be somehow capable of deriving pleasure from it, but from 
a direct desire of the future admiration of others, and a preference 
of it to their own pleasure." Hume, Inquiry concerning the Prin- 
ciples of Morals, Appendix I. 



224 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

our impulses is the mere thinking of reason to the 
contrary — it is their bare presence to the mind 
which gives the veto, and makes acts, otherwise 
seductive, impossible to perform. If we could only 
forget our scruples, what exultant energy we should 
for a while display." 

(2) Another point. If pleasure or pain, or the 
expectation of pleasure or pain, is what prompts all 
action, how shall we explain the first performance of 
so-called instinctive acts? Men as well as animals 
perform many acts instinctively, without knowing 
beforehand whether the results will be pleasurable 
or painful. The newly hatched chick sees the grain 
of corn, and straightway makes the movements nec- 
essary to pick it up, without any thought of pleas- 
ure. Similarly the sight of the infant arouses the 
love of the young mother, and impels her to care 
for it. And the lover of truth feels a craving to 
unravel the mysteries of the universe, regardless of 
whether his longings will bring him pleasure or pain. 
In cases like these there is present in consciousness 
a more or less distinct idea and a tendency toward 
it, a feeling of pressure or impulsion toward it. 
The explosion of the impulse will be followed by 
pleasure, though the agent may know nothing of 
this result until it has happened. The impulse or 
desire for the act here exists prior to the act itself 
and the pleasure accompanying or following it. 

If the hedonistic theory is correct, then all these 
acts must be prompted by pleasure or the expecta- 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 225 

tion of pleasure, or by pain or the fear of pain. It 
will not do to say that such acts are at first purel} r 
reflex, in the sense that they follow mechanically as 
the consequence of the stimulation of some nerve 
centre from within or without, and that the pleas- 
ure experienced after the first mechanical movement 
becomes the future motor cue. For if they have 
occurred originally without the intervention of a 
pleasurable motive, why should the pleasure be such 
an indispensable condition thereafter? Nor will it 
do to say that pleasure, though not now the motive, 
was the original motive, and that such acts are in- 
heritances of the past. Such an explanation is a 
mere begging of the question ; it pushes the problem 
farther back into the field of the unknown, and then 
assumes the very tiling to be proved. Besides, if 
acts can be performed at the present time without 
being prompted by pleasure, why could they not 
have been performed in a similar way before? 

(3) Again, if pleasure, or the idea of pleasure, is 
the sole motive to action, how shall we explain the 
fact that some pleasures are preferred to others? 
Why do many men prefer the pleasures of the intel- 
lect to the pleasures of sense? Shall we say with 
Bentham that the so-called higher pleasures are 
more intense than the others? But many psycholo- 
gists hold that the reverse is true. 1 And if the 
intensity of the pleasure is not what gives it its 
motive force, what is it? The peculiar quality of 
1 See Ladd, Psychology, p. 195. 
Q 



226 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS 

the pleasure? (Mill.) In that case the theory aban- 
dons its original position that pleasure is the sole 
motive to action, and substitutes for it the view 
that a certain kind of pleasure causes us to act, a 
fact which must be explained. 

Moreover, how did the race emerge from savagery, 
how did it come to prefer ideal pleasures? Who 
told our ancestors of the pleasures resulting from 
the pursuit of higher aims before they had tasted 
them? Were they not bound to think first, before 
they discovered that thinking was pleasurable ? 

(4) It seems that there can be conscious action 
which is not prompted by pleasure or the anticipa- 
tion of it. Men think and plan and act, they strug- 
gle for fame and recognition in this world and in the 
next, they sacrifice themselves for ideals, much in 
the same manner in which children play and birds 
sing : because it is their nature to do what they do, 
because they desire or will to do it, not because it 
gives them pleasure. Giordano Bruno did not die 
nt the stake for the pleasure of the thing, nor did 
Socrates drink the poisoned hemlock for the sake of 
happiness beyond the grave. Aristotle and Coper- 
nicus, Newton and Darwin, did not give up their 
lives to the study of nature in order to realize 
pleasure and avoid pain. They did what they did 
because they could not help themselves. " It is a 
calumny to say," so Carlyle declares, " that men are 
roused to heroic actions by ease, hope of pleasure, 
recompense — sugar-plums of any kind in this world 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 227 

or the next. In the meanest mortal there lies some- 
thing nobler. The poor swearing soldier hired to 
be shot has his 'honor of a soldier,' different from 
drill, regulations, and the shilling a day. It is not 
to taste sweet things, but to do noble and true 
things, and vindicate himself under God's heaven 
as a God-made man, that the poorest son of Adam 
dimly longs. Show him the way of doing that, the 
dullest day-drudge kindles into a hero. They wrong 
man greatly who say he is to be seduced by ease. 
Difficulty, abnegation, martyrdom, death, are the 
allurements that act on the heart of man. Kindle 
the inner genial life of him, you have a flame that 
burns up all lower considerations." 1 

(5) It is true that the realization of our desires 
and purposes is accompanied or followed by a tem- 
porary feeling of relief or satisfaction or pleasure. 
But this does not prove that the feeling, or the 
expectation of it, w r as the cause of the result. If I 
should make up my mind to jump out of the win- 
dow, I should not be satisfied until I had accom- 
plished the task. The realization of my desire 
would bring me relief, but the latter would not 
necessarily be the cause of the act. The tension 
in my brain or the energy in the cells would be 
discharged into my muscles, and a feeling of pleas- 
ure would ensue. But I could not say that it was 
the expectation of this result that made me jump. 

1 Hero-Worship, p. 237 (ed. 1858). Quoted by Lecky, European 
Morals, Vol. I, p. 57. 



228 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

My pleasures depend upon my impulses and desires, 
my desires do not depend upon my pleasures. To 
assume that pleasure is the cause of an act because 
it follows the act, is a fallacy of the post hoc ergo 
propter hoc kind. As Hoffding says : " Because 
the end or the object of the impulse is something 
that excites, or seems to excite, pleasure, it need 
not necessarily be the feeling of pleasure itself. 
The impulse is essentially determined by an idea, 
is a striving after the content of this idea. In 
hunger, e.g., the impulse has reference to the food, 
not to the feeling of pleasure in its consumption." 1 
" The sympathetic impulses, e.g., the impulse to miti- 
gate the sorrows or to promote the welfare of others, 
are guided by the idea of the improved condition 
of others, depicted more or less in the imagination, 
as also by that of the pleasure they feel in their 
improved condition, — but it is not in the least 
necessary for the idea of the pleasure afforded to 
us by the sight of their improved condition to make 
itself felt." 2 

8. Present Pleasure - Pain as the Motive. — 
Sometimes the theory is interpreted in the second 
sense referred to above. 3 That is, all action 
is prompted by pleasure or pain, not by the idea 
or expectation of it. It is only because the idea of 

1 Psychology, English translation, p. 323. See Bain's answer to 
this argument, Emotions and the Will, "The Will," chap, viii, 
§7. 

2 See also Steinthal, Ethik, Part III, pp. 312-382 ; II, pp. 227, 348. 
8 §6. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 229 

a pleasure is accompanied by pleasure, and an idea 
of pain, by pain, that it has motive force. In the 
words of Jodl : " Only the newly arising feeling, 
caused by memory -images (presentation-feeling), 
not the idea of the feeling, that is, the memory of 
a feeling, or the conception of a feeling, influences 
the will." 1 

In answer to this view we may say : (1) Strictly 
speaking, we never have a state of consciousness 
which is purely a feeling. The feeling may be the 
predominant element, but it is not the only one in 
the process. In addition to feeling we have, accord- 
ing to modern psychology, 2 intellection and cona- 
tion, or, to use more popular terms, thinking and 
willing. Consequently, why should we pick out 
one of the factors which go to make up a unified, 
conscious state, and regard it as the all-important 
motive to action? And, then, why pick out this 
particular one? The hedonistic psychologist makes 
the scheme of action and willing far too simple. He 
imagines that first we have an idea of some object 
or act, that this idea somehow or other arouses a 
feeling of pleasure or pain, in consequence of which 
a movement is made or inhibited. This explanation 
is as unsatisfactory as it is simple. 

(2) Moreover, ignoring this objection, to say that 

1 Lehrbuch der Psychologie, p. 726. 

2 See Ladd, Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, chap, iv ; 
Hoffding, Psychology, chap, iii ; Sully, The Human Mind, Vol. I, 
chap, iv ; Jodl, Psychologic, chap, iii, 2 ; Williams, A Review of 
Evolutional Ethics, pp. 360 ff. 



230 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS 

pleasure is the only motive to action, assumes (a) 
that feelings alone can instigate action ; (6) that 
only pleasurable and painful feelings can ; and (c) 
that all feelings must be either pleasurable or pain- 
ful. Each one of these statements is open to serious 
objection. 

We have already shown in what precedes that 
feelings are not the sole motives to action or willing. 
And unless pleasure-pains are the only feelings in 
consciousness, we can show that other feelings have 
as much right to be regarded as motive forces as 
these. We have feelings of obligation, approval 
and disapproval, feelings of hope and fear, love and 
hate, anger, envy, trust, etc., all of which can influ- 
ence action. Are these feelings merely pleasurable 
or painful tones of different ideas? 1 There is pain 
in disapproval, fear, hate, anger, and envy, no doubt, 
and pleasure in approval, hope, love, and trust. But 
is that all there is in these feelings ? Does not each 
feeling possess its peculiar color-tone, so to speak? 
Is not the feeling of fear more than the idea of a 
future object plus a feeling of pain, and the feeling 
of anger more than the idea of something that 
opposes me, plus pain? 

But, the opponent urges, would you perform cer- 
tain acts if they procured you no pleasure ? Yes, 
I answer, I should and I do. I perform many acts 

1 Spinoza, Hoffding, Kiilpe, Jodl, Bain, would answer this 
question in the affirmative. In opposition see especially Wundt 
and Ladd. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 231 

which not only yield me no pleasure, but even give 
me pain. I catch a student cheating ; it gives me no 
pleasure. I report him to the authorities ; it gives 
me no pleasure. I testify against him ; it gives me 
no pleasure. I see him disgraced ; it gives me no 
pleasure. So, too, I submit to the pain of a surgical 
operation. Ah, yes, the hedonist replies, you derive 
pleasure from the thought of having done your duty, 
or from the hope of being restored to health. That 
may be ; but I also get pain. Very true, but the 
pleasure exceeds the pain, comes the answer. I 
don't know ; it is not an easy thing to compute 
pleasures and pains, and it is much harder to com- 
pare them with each other, and to say that the 
amount of pleasure which I derive from one act is 
greater than the amount of pain yielded hj another. 
Besides, even though the pleasure did exceed the 
pain, that would not prove that the feeling of pleas- 
ure was the motive. As we have said before, the 
fact that pleasure follows does not prove that it pre- 
cedes. But, it is said, the hope of it preexists. 
Well, we have already found that the idea of pleas- 
ure is not the sole motive. 

Another argument in favor of this aspect of 
the theory appears in this form: Pleasure must be 
the motive, because if an act gave me pain I should 
not perform it. Our answer is : (1) I do perform 
many acts which give me pain. Yes, but you do 
them for the sake of some future pleasure, I am told. 
That is begging the question ; that is the very point 



232 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

which has to be proved, and has not been proved. 
(2) Even if it were true that I should not perform 
an act that gave me pain, this would not of itself 
prove that the pleasure is the thing I am after. It 
would be like asserting that I go to the theatre in 
order to get warm, because I would not go if the 
house were cold. 1 We cannot think without the 
presence of arterial blood in the brain, but that will 
not allow us to conclude that arterial blood is the 
cause of thought, as Empedocles did. I cannot live 
without eating, but does that make eating the motive 
of my living ? I will not eat of a certain dish unless 
it is seasoned properly, but is the seasoning the thing 
I am after ? Do I eat my food for the pepper and 
salt it contains ? 

9. Pain as the Motive. — According to another 
phase of hedonism, neither pleasure nor the idea of 
pleasure, but a feeling of pain or discomfort, impels 
us to action. 2 We have certain needs or cravings, 
says Schopenhauer, and we feel pain unless they are 
satisfied. The will strives to free itself from pain, 
and therefore acts. 3 

Now, it is doubtless true that feelings of pain and 
discomfort often prevail in consciousness, and may 
be regarded as giving rise to action. My aching 
tooth may impel me to seek relief at the dentist's. 

1 See Simmel, Einleitung in die Moralwissenschaft,Yo\. I, p. 316. 

2 See Rolph, Biologische Probleme ; Sergi, Physiological Psy- 
chology ; Schopenhauer ; and others. 

3 See chap. x. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 233 

Or I may be bored to death in a certain town, and 
seek for a change of scene in consequence. But can 
we say that the feeling of pain is the sole motive to 
action ? Do you eat and drink and plan and study 
and love and hate, simply in order to rid yourself of 
pain ? I do not think so. Pain is a motive among 
others — and a very effective motive at times — but 
it is not the only one. We have impulses and de- 
sires, and when they are not satisfied they may grow 
more intense and be felt as pain or discomfort. But 
they may be realized before this feeling arises. This 
feeling of discomfort is in many cases nothing but 
the intensification of the impulse itself, the exalta- 
tion of the tendency or " urgency from within out- 
ward." 1 Perhaps it stands for the increased tension 
of the motor cells — the energy increases until it 
reaches the explosion point ; 2 perhaps it represents 
the muscular, tendinous, and articular excitations 
caused in different parts of the body by the over- 
flow from the brain ; 3 perhaps it is due to both. 4 At 
any rate, to say that this feeling is the cause of 
the explosion or the movement, is like saying that 
the intensification of the impulse is the cause of the 
impulse, or that I desire an act because I desire it 
strongly. 

We must therefore say to the advocates of this 
view : (1) If you claim that every act has for its 

1 Kiilpe, Psychology, English translation, p. 266. 

2 Bain, Wundt, Preyer. 3 James and Munsterberg. 
* Ladd, Psychology, pp. 221 ff. 



234 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

motive a feeling of pain, as in the examples first 
mentioned, you are in error ; not all acts are thus 
produced. (2) If by the feeling of pain you mean 
the feeling of uneasiness which accompanies an 
impulse, you are wrong again, for (a) this feeling is 
not an essential antecedent to every act, and (5) it 
cannot be said to precede the impulse and set it in 
motion, it is the impulse itself intensified. 1 

10. Unconscious Pleasure-Pain as the Motive. — 
Psychology makes against the view that pleasure 
and pain, in any of the forms discussed above, 
are the sole motives to action. We are deter- 
mined in our conduct not merely by pleasure and 
pain, or the hope or fear of pleasure and pain. 
Convinced of this fact, and yet unwilling to abandon 
his general proposition, the hedonist might say: 
True, the will is roused to action not merely by con- 
scious pleasure or pain, or by a conscious idea of 
pleasure and pain, but by unconscious pleasure and 
pain, or by an unconscious presentation of pleasure 
and pain. That is to say, I am guided in many of 
my doings by unconscious pleasure and pain. My 
will is directed toward pleasure without knowing it. 
I strive after wealth, honor, fame, for the sake of 
the pleasure they will bring, without, however, 
always being «aware of it. Wealth, honor, and 
fame, like the food which we eat, are sought after 
for the pleasure which they procure, though we may 
not be conscious of the fact. 

1 Klilpe, Psychology, p. 267. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 235 

This, it seems to me, is rather a weak basis upon 
which to rest a theory. What happens in the realm 
of the unconscious I have no means of telling ; 
indeed, I do not even know whether there is such a 
thing as an unconscious soul-life. When the hedo- 
nist has recourse to the unconscious he has recourse 
to the metaphysical ; he shifts the problem from psy- 
chology to philosophy. As Sidgwick says : " The 
proposition would be difficult to disprove. . . . 
When once Ave go beyond the testimony of conscious- 
ness, there seems to be no clear method of deter- 
mining which among the consequences of any action 
is the end at which it is aimed. For the same 
reason, however, the proposition is at any rate 
equally difficult to prove." x 

But suppose we permit the concept of the uncon- 
scious to enter into our discussion. The hedonist 
claims that man blindly strives after pleasure, that 
he is unconsciously determined by pleasure or pain, 
or the idea of pleasure and pain. This assumption 
must be proved in some way. How can the hedo- 
nist prove it ? How can he show us what takes place 
behind the curtain of the unconscious ? By refer- 
ring to the effects or results of the blind striving ? 
That is, shall Ave say, Pleasure is the invariable 
effect of unconscious striving, hence pleasure is the 
unconscious motive ? But even if the premise were 
true, would that make the conclusion true ? Besides, 
is the premise true ? Can Ave prove that pleasure 
1 Methods of Ethics, p. 53. 



236 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

is the invariable effect or consequence of all blind 
striving ? 

I believe not. In the first place many results 
follow our impulses : movements, sensations, feelings 
of pleasure and pain, feelings of satisfaction due to 
the realization of the impulse, ideas, other impulses, 
etc. The realization of every impulse is accom- 
panied and followed by elements of thinking, feeling, 
and willing. Now why should I pick out one of 
these and say that it is the unconscious choice of the 
mind ? Besides, waiving this point, does the pleas- 
ure always come ? Say that I am striving after 
wealth. My ostensible aim is the money ; but, 
says hedonism, the real aim is pleasure. Pleasure, 
which is the secret power behind the throne, invari- 
ably follows the realization of desire. Is this true ? 
I work and struggle and accumulate money, but 
am I ever satisfied? 

Hedonism in this form consists of nothing but a 
lot of unproved suppositions : — 

(1) That there are unconscious states of mind ; 

(2) That there can be unconscious pleasures and 
pains, or unconscious ideas of pleasure-pains ; 

(3) That pleasure-pains are the only unconscious 
motives that can lead to action ; 

(4) That pleasure and pain are the universal 
accompaniments of action. 

11. The Psychological Fallacies of Hedonism. — 
I believe that we may now say without fear of 
contradiction that psychology makes against the 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 237 

view that pleasure is the sole motive to action. We 
are not prompted to action solely by feelings of 
pleasure and pain, or ideas of pleasure and pain. It 
is a psychological fallacy to claim that we are. 
Generally speaking, this fallacy is based upon the 
following misconceptions : — 

(1) Hedonistic psychologists hold that all feelings 
must be either pleasurable or painful, and that 
pleasure-pain constitutes the only class of feeling. 
This hypothesis, however, has not been proved to 
the satisfaction of a large number of psycholo- 
gists. 

(2) Hedonistic psychologists confuse impulses and 
desires with pleasurable and painful feelings. There 
is frequently present in consciousness, as we have 
pointed out, a more or less distinct idea of move- 
ment, together with a tendency toward it, a feeling 
of impulsion toward it, "a pressure from within, 
outward." This impulsion is felt as pleasurable 
until it reaches a certain point, when it may become 
painful. According as we unduly emphasize either 
the pleasurable or painful aspects of such states of 
consciousness as these, we shall assert either that 
pleasure or that pain is the invariable antecedent of 
action. But we must guard against wholly identify- 
ing the feeling of impulsion with pleasure or pain ; 
the impulse contains more than these elements, as we 
have pointed out above. Whether the physiological 
cause of the feeling-impulse is a nervous current 
running from the brain, or whether it is the excita- 



238 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS 

tion produced in the brain by the resulting move- 
ments in the muscles, joints, and skin, or whether 
it is both, does not concern us here. One thing 
seems certain : the impulse on its mental side is 
more than pleasure and pain. 

(3) Hedonistic psychologists also identify the 
affirmation or fiat of the will with pleasure, and the 
negation or veto with pain. They find that when 
the mind decides a case, there is a " tone of feeling " 
present, which, since pleasure-pains are the only 
feelings possible, must be a form of pleasure or pain. 
But though pleasures and pains are frequently fused 
with the state of consciousness which characterizes 
an act of will (in our sense), they are not the only 
elements contained in it, nor are they the all-impor- 
tant ones. 

(4) Hedonistic psychologists also notice that the 
cognitive elements preceding an act are always 
changing, while the feeling-element remains the 
same. Hence they come to regard the feelings as 
the invariable antecedents of acts, and set them up 
as the motives of action. They make two mistakes 
here : They regard all feelings as tones or shades 
of pleasure-pain ; and they conclude that because a 
certain aspect of consciousness precedes action, it 
must be the motive or cause of action. 

(5) Hedonistic psychologists also believe that all 
acts are accompanied or followed by pleasure-pains, 
and therefore conclude that these must be the motives. 
But, as we have shown, it does not necessarily follow 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 239 

that because pleasure-pains are the effects or results 
of acts they are therefore also the causes. 

12. Tlie Pleasure of the Race as the Motive. — 
But perhaps our opponents will say, We do not 
mean that the pleasure of self is the end or motive, 
but the pleasure of the race, the greatest happiness 
of the greatest number. 1 

We may urge the same objections against this 
view as against the other. It cannot be proved that 
all human beings strive after the pleasure of the race, 
that the idea of racial pleasure is the motive of 
human action. And to say that they unconsciously 
strive after the happiness of the race is as objec- 
tionable, in a certain sense, as to say that they 
unconsciously strive after their own pleasure. 

13. Pleasure as the End realized by All Action. — 
Our conclusion, then, is this : If by the assertion, 
Pleasure, or happiness, is the end of life or the 
highest good, we mean that feelings of pleasure-pain, 
in some form or other, are the motives of human 
action, the theory cannot stand. Let us now inter- 
pret hedonism in a different sense. 2 Let us take it 
to mean that pleasure is the end or purpose of all 
action in the sense that all living beings realize 
pleasure, and that the realization of pleasure is the 
object of their existence. 

But the first question which forces itself upon us 
here is this, Is pleasure really the result of all 
action ? It will have to be proved not only that 

1 Mill, Utilitarianism, pp. 22-23. 2 See chap, viii, § 1 (2). 



240 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

pleasure is a result of action, but the result, i.e., 
that all animals get more pleasure out of life than 
pain. We have already seen that Aristotle regards 
pleasure as the consequence or concomitant of nor- 
mal or natural activity, while pain is linked with 
abnormal or injurious action. Spencer declares that 
" pains are the correlatives of actions injurious to the 
organism, while pleasures are the correlatives of 
acts conducive to its welfare." By conducive and 
injurious he means " tending to continuance or 
increase of life," and the reverse. 1 Bain teaches 
that "states of pleasure are connected with an 
increase, and states of pain with an abatement, of 
some or all, of the vital functions." 2 Although there 
are differences in expression, all these statements 
evidently mean the same, namely, that " pleasure is 
significant of activities which are beneficial, and 
pain is significant of what is harmful, either to the 
total organism of the individual or of the species, or 
to the particular organ primarily involved." 3 

Although this theory is not free from objections, 4 
let us accept it for the sake of argument. Let us 
assume that pleasure accompanies beneficial activity, 
and that pain is the concomitant of all action that is 
harmful and dangerous. Functions, then, which are 

1 Psychology, § 124 ; Data of Ethics, § 33. 

2 The Senses and the Intellect, 4th edition, chap, iv, § 18, p. 303. 

3 Ladd, Psychology, p. 191. See also Sidgwick, Methods of 
Ethics, pp. 177 ff. ; Kiilpe, Psychology, English translation, pp. 267 
ff.; Marshall, Pleasure, Pain, and ^Esthetics, especially pp. 169 ff. 

4 See Ladd, Kiilpe, Sidgwick, Marshall. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 241 

useful are followed by pleasure, while those which 
are injurious have pain as their consequence. But 
would this prove that pleasure is the end of all 
animal existence, either in the sense in which we 
speak of vision being the end or purpose of the eye, 
or in the sense that God or some intelligent principle 
in nature has set up as the goal the pleasure of living 
beings ? 

When we speak of ends we may merely mean that 
a certain result is obtained, that life, for example, is 
tending in a certain direction. Thus, we say that 
an organ realizes a purpose. The eye is a purposive 
or teleological mechanism ; it has a function to 
perform which is useful to the animal, it serves a 
purpose, realizes an end. 

Now, is pleasure the end of life in this sense ? 
Pleasure or happiness is a result of human existence, 
one of the results, a result among others. But how 
can we say that it is the highest end, that all other 
factors and functions are means to this ? We can 
say that perception, imagination, reasoning, willing, 
etc., are means to pleasure, but can we not say with 
equal right that pleasure is a means to these ? How 
can we prove that pleasure is the final goal of life ? 
Why pick out one element of psychic life and say 
that the realization of this element is the goal toward 
which everything is making, the end-all and be-all 
of animal existence ? Would it not be like claiming 
that seeing is the highest goal because normal beings 
possess an organ of sight ? Would it not be more 



242 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

reasonable to say that the different organs of the 
body are means to a higher end — the life of the 
entire body, of which the organs are parts ; and that 
therefore every organ is a means to bodily life, and 
in so far as life consists of its organs, a partial end- 
in-itself ? And would it not also be more reasonable 
to say that the realization of all mental states is the 
end, rather than that one element, which never 
exists alone in consciousness, is the end ? It would 
be absurd to say that the whole body and its organs, 
the whole mind and all its functions, are the subor- 
dinate means to pleasure. It would be like saying 
that all the organs of the body are merely means 
of seeing, that vision is the end of life. Would it 
not be more plausible to reverse the statement and 
say, Vision is a means of life, and pleasure and pain 
are both means of preservation ? 

14. Pleasure-Pain as a Means of Preservation. 
— We can say that pain serves as a warning, 
pleasure as a bait. When the animal feels pain it 
makes movements of defence or flight. Pleasure and 
pain may be conceived as primitive forms of the 
knowledge of good and evil, as Paulsen expresses it. 
When the dangerous object is near at hand, the 
danger to life is greatest, and pain, therefore, most 
easily aroused. We find greater sensibility to pain 
in direct touch than in indirect touching like seeing 
and hearing. 2 

1 See Nichols, article on "Pleasure and Pain," Philosophical 
Review, Vol. I, pp. 414 ff. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 243 

It seems, also, that as we pass from lower to higher 
forms of organic life (from lower animals to man, 
and from the lower organs to the higher), pleasure 
and pain gradually fall into the background. In the 
lowest forms the animal must come into direct con- 
tact with objects before it can feel and know how to 
act with regard to them. Tactual sensations plus 
feelings of pleasure and pain would assist the animal 
in preserving itself. In the course of time, however, 
organs are developed which enable the animal to be- 
come aware of helpful and dangerous things without 
coming into such close contact with them. By 
means of the organs of taste, smell, hearing, and 
sight, the animal practically touches objects at a 
greater and greater distance, and the farther away 
the object of sense is, the less pain and pleasure does 
it arouse. 

I see no better way of interpreting such facts as 
these than by conceiving the feelings of pleasure and 
pain as means to an end — preservation. 

We may reach a similar result by considering the 
function which memory performs. Even though it 
were true that every sensation had to be felt origi- 
nally as pleasurable or painful in order to inform the 
animal of the nature of the object before it, and to 
release the appropriate movement with reference to 
it, we can understand how an animal possessing the 
power to retain its experiences could learn to act 
without being prompted by feelings of pleasure and 
pain. The touch or sight of the object might call 



244 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

up the thought of the pleasure or pain experienced 
before, and the animal might act appropriately with- 
out feeling peripherally excited pleasure or pain. 
The animal could tell what was good or bad for it 
without directly experiencing pleasure or pain at all, 
because each sensation would be associated with 
ideas or copies of past sensations, and it could pre- 
serve itself because these ideas would call up certain 
movements which had been made before. Indeed, 
the sensation itself might come to be associated with 
the appropriate movements, without the interven- 
tion of any additional element. The sight of the 
hawk may be associated in the consciousness of 
the hen with certain tendencies to action, and here the 
association may have been formed during the history 
of the species ; it may be the result of race experi- 
ence. The sight of a cliff over which the mule has 
once fallen may become associated in the mind of 
the animal with the thought of its past experience, 
and cause it to hesitate. Here the association is the 
result of individual experience. In both cases, how- 
ever, a feeling of aversion is perhaps felt in the pres- 
ence of the dangerous object, and this may be followed 
by a movement or the inhibition of a movement. 

Now in the case of man abstract reasoning is added 
to the other processes. We pick out certain char- 
acteristics from the concrete object which we are 
considering, and connect them with certain general 
consequences. 1 We reason from the fact that a man 

1 See James, Psychology : "Reasoning," Vol. II, chap. xxii. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM • 245 

has certain symptoms that he has a certain disease, 
and prescribe a particular mode of treatment. The 
general discovers a weakness in the enemy's line of 
battle, and makes the movements which will lead to 
the desired overthrow of the opposing force. 

It seems, then, that in the lowest stages of life the 
feelings of pleasure and pain serve as signs that the 
act is preservative. Afterward this element falls 
into the background, and other signs are employed. 
Percepts and ideas are associated either with the idea 
of pleasure or pain, which, in turn, is associated with 
the idea of some appropriate movement; or the per- 
cept or idea is associated directly with the act, as is 
the case with instincts, habitual acts, ideo-motor 
action, etc. 

Hence we may say again what we found to be 
true before : Feelings of pleasure and pain often 
serve as signs of what furthers and hinders life; 
sometimes the ideas of such feelings, that is, the 
expectation of pleasure and pain, sometimes other 
ideas, indicate it. Hence it is fair to say that 
pleasures and pains are means of guiding the 
will ; they assist the will in preserving and pro- 
moting individual and generic life. Whenever 
these results can be attained without the help of 
pleasure and pain, other means are employed. 
Pleasure is not the end aimed at by the will, but 
a means. It is far more reasonable to say that the 
will blindly strives for the preservation and the 
development of life, and that pleasure and pain 



246 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

are among its guides, than to say that pleasure is 
the end and life the means. The part is a means 
to the whole of which it is the part ; the whole is 
not a means to an individual part. 

15. The Physiological Basis of Pleasure-Pain. — 
Now let us look at the matter physiologically. 
Let us consider what are the physiological condi- 
tions of pleasure and pain. When I exercise an 
organ moderately, a pleasant feeling arises ; when I 
overexercise it, an unpleasant feeling is the result. 
A too intense light causes pain ; a very loud sound 
does the same. It is often said that a very weak 
sensation is accompanied by an unpleasant feeling. 
This is true, however, only when we attempt to pay 
attention to it, in which case the pain is due to the 
effort we make. We may suppose that when an 
organ is exercised or stimulated, the cortical centre 
to which or from which the current runs has its 
nervous substance, its cells, destroyed. The energy 
in the cells is used up. But the energy is restored 
as quickly as possible by the blood, which carries 
nourishment. If the expended central energy is 
restored quickly enough to make up for the waste, 
a pleasant feeling arises. But when the cellular 
substance is not restored rapidly enough, we get 
unpleasant feelings. When the nervous system 
is acted upon, blood is carried to the parts in action 
in order to restore the expended force. The arte- 
ries are dilated. This explains the changes in pulse, 
respiration, etc., which accompany or follow pleas- 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 247 

urable feelings. When, however, too severe a drain 
is made upon the parts in action, the blood does not 
carry enough nourishment, and the lost energy is 
not restored. Pain ensues. The breaking down 
of the cells reacts upon the movement of the arte- 
ries ; the greater the demand made upon them, the 
less they can do ; they become constricted. Hence, 
intense bodily pain may produce a swoon, " and the 
tortures of the rack have sometimes put the victim 
to sleep." 1 

Now to say that pleasure is the end, would mean, 
when translated into physiological language, that 
the entire body, with all its complicated organs, was 
nothing but a means for keeping the nervous energy 
in such a state that destruction should not exceed 
construction. 2 This is manifestly absurd. The 
sanest view to take is that the physiological con- 
dition corresponding to pleasure is a sign of the 
proper functioning of the system, that the health 
and integrity of the entire system is the end which 
is realized by the proper functioning of the nervous 
and every other system. 

16. Metaphysical Hedonism. — Much harder would 
it be to prove that pleasure is the highest end 

1 Ktilpe, Psychology i p. 273. See Sutherland, The Origin and 
Growth of the Moral Instinct, Vol. II, chap. xxii. 

2 Or, if we assume the existence of special pain and pleasure 
nerves, the hedonistic physiology would mean that all the other 
nerves and all the other parts of the body were means to the exci- 
tation of the pleasure nerves, and that the excitation of these nerves 
was the end and aim of life. 



248 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

aimed at by nature or by God. We should have 
the same problem as before, complicated with all 
the difficulties belonging to the teleological argu- 
ment in metaphysics. 1 We should have to prove 
(1) that an end is really realized ; (2) that pleas- 
ure is that end, which we have not been able to do 
so far ; (3) that it is the end desired by God or 
by some intelligent principle in nature ; and (4) 
that everything else is an appropriate means of 
realizing it. It would have to be shown that God 
made the world and everything in it in order to 
procure pleasure or happiness for his creatures. 
Can that be done ? Countless numbers of living 
beings perish in the struggle for existence. Many 
are called but few are chosen. Only those survive 
who can meet the requirements of their surround- 
ings, whose natures are adapted to the conditions 
of the world. 

To assume that the end aimed at by God is pleas- 
ure, is to assume that everything in this world, the 
complicated bodies of the animals and everything 
in existence, was made in order that living beings 
might get pleasure. One feels like asking in this 
connection, why so much effort was wasted to pro- 
duce this result — tant de bruit pour une omelette — 
when it might have been attained with less trouble. 
Perhaps the jellyfish has less to grumble at than 
man. 

1 For an excellent critique of teleology, see Paulsen's Introduc- 
tion to Philosophy, English translation, pp. 158 ff. 



CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 249 

17. Pleasure as the Moral End. — But, it might 
be said, although pleasure or happiness is not the 
end at which men aim, consciously or unconsciously, 
they ought to aim at it. Why, however, ought they 
to aim at it? we ask. To say that one ought to do a 
thing can mean : (1) that, if one desires to realize 
a certain end, one ought to use certain means ; or (2) 
that one is absolutely bound to do a certain tiling. 
Now if we say that man ought to make pleasure 
the goal, taking the ought relatively as in the first 
case, then we are practically making pleasure a 
means to some other end. If the ought is taken in 
the second sense, and we say that man is bound 
unconditionally to seek his happiness, that he is 
obliged to seek it, — morally obliged, perhaps, — we 
are simply making a dogmatic assertion which can- 
not be proved, and which will not be accepted by 
every one without qualification. It cannot be proved 
that one ought to strive after some highest good ; 
this is a matter of feeling. Now, do all human 
beings feel that they ought to seek pleasure regardless 
of everything else, and do they feel that they ought 
to seek everything else for the sake of pleasure ? 



CHAPTER IX 

THE HIGHEST GOOD* 

1. The Question of Ends or Ideals. — Our exami- 
nation has shown us that pleasure cannot be regarded 
as the end of action, in whatever sense we take the 
word end. Then what is the end ? If we mean by 
the question, What is the motive to action ? we can- 
not answer in a single word. All ideas are more 
or less impulsive, indeed every conscious state tends 
to translate itself into , movement ; consciousness is 
motor. If we mean by the question, What is the 
final goal at which human beings are consciously 
and deliberately aiming? then our answer must 
be, Human beings have not a definite end in view 
toward which they are consciously and methodically 
moving. We do not plan our lives so carefully, we 
do not first set up an ideal and then try to realize it. 
Individuals and nations may be said to have certain 
ideals, but not in the sense that they are clearly con- 
scious of them. 

1 See the authors mentioned in chap, vii, especially Stephen, 
Science of Ethics, chaps, iv, ix, x ; Jhering, ZwecJc im Becht, Vol. 
II, 95 ff.; Wundt, Ethics, pp. 493 ft; Hoffding, Ethik, VI; Paulsen, 
Ethics, Introduction, also pp. 275 ff.; also Ziegler, Sittliches Sein 
und sittliches Werden ; Williams, Evolutional Ethics, Part II, 
chaps, vii, viii, ix. See also my article, "The Moral Law," in 
the International Journal of Ethics, January, 1900. 

250 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 251 

We can say, however, that every animal desires to 
live in its own peculiar way. The lion desires to 
live the life of a lion, man the life of a man. The 
brute is, of course, not conscious of the ultimate con- 
sequences of its strivings. It desires food and cares 
for its young not because it has before its conscious- 
ness the idea of individual and race preservation. 
It is not necessary that it should know all these 
things ; the important thing is that it should do 
them. 

When we examine the acts desired by animals, we 
find that the}*" are purposive, that they realize a pur- 
pose. The lion roams over the desert seeking for 
prey, and when he finds it he acts in a manner appro- 
priate to his purpose. The lioness cares for her 
young much like a human mother. We may say 
that the actions of these animals tend toward their 
self-preservation as well as toward the preservation 
of the species. And we may, therefore, say in a cer- 
tain sense that these animals desire their own and 
their species' good, not, however, that they have in 
consciousness an ideal toward which they are work- 
ing, and for the realization of which they are using 
everything else as a means. Their desires are 
directed toward concrete acts, which we may embrace 
under different classes, not toward abstract ideals. 

Now, human beings, like other animals, have their 
minds fixed upon specific acts without being neces- 
sarily conscious of the ultimate consequences of these 
acts. They desire these acts, not for the sake of any 



252 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

ultimate good, but for the sake of the acts them- 
selves and their immediate consequences. I may 
benefit others because I love to do so, without being 
aware that I am thereby bettering humanity, and 
without consciously striving after that end. I may 
study from a love of study, because I have certain 
intellectual impulses, without being conscious that 
the realization of my desires will assist in civilizing 
the world, and without intending to work for prog- 
ress. Or I may be thoroughly conscious of what I 
am doing and for what I am doing it, I may be gov- 
erned in all my conduct by a clearly conceived ideal. 

Now, different persons may have different ideals 
(meaning by ideals the direction which their im- 
pulses are taking, whether they are conscious of it or 
not). And the same individual may have different 
ideals at different times, nay, even, different ideals 
at the same time. One ideal may give way to an- 
other, which in turn may be relieved by a third. 
Moreover, ideals are more clearly presented in some 
consciousnesses than in others, and govern the lives 
of some individuals more characteristically than 
those of others. 

Collective bodies like individuals move in certain 
directions in obedience to their characteristic desires, 
and have their ideals. Different nations have dif- 
ferent ideals, and the same nation may have different 
ideals at different times. A nation's ideal manifests 
itself in all its products — in its religion, philosophy, 
poetry, art, literature, science, politics, moralitj^, etc. 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 253 

The ideals of the Jews, Athenians, and Spartans 
were not the same. The ideal of the earlier Romans 
differed largely from that of the Empire, and the 
ideal of the modern times does not agree with the 
ideal of the Middle Ages. 

2. The Ideal of Humanity. — All these facts show 
us how hard it must be to answer the question, 
What is the highest good or ideal which humanity is 
striving to reach? in anything but a very general 
way. We can say that human beings desire to live 
human lives, which is a general statement of the 
fact that they have specific impulses, desires, or 
tendencies. The} r not only desire to live, but to live 
in specific ways. They love to exercise their powers 
and to develop their capacities. In the words of 
Paulsen : " The goal at which the will of every liv- 
ing creature aims, is the normal exercise of the vital 
functions which constitute its nature. Every animal 
desires to live the life for which it is predisposed. 
Its natural disposition manifests itself in impulses, 
and determines its activity. The formula may also 
be applied to man. He desires to live a human life 
and all that is implied in it ; that is, a mental, his- 
torical life, in which there is room for the exercise of 
all human mental powers and virtues. He desires 
to play and to learn, to work and to acquire, to 
possess and to enjoy, to form and to create ; he de- 
sires to love and to admire, to obey and to rule, to 
fight and to win, to make poetry and to dream, to 
think and to investigate. And he desires to do all 



254 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS ' 

these things in their natural order of development, 
as life provides them. He desires to experience the 
relations of the child to its parents, of the pupil to 
his teacher, of the apprentice to the master ; and his 
will, for the time being, finds the greatest satisfac- 
tion in such a life. He desires to live as a brother 
among brothers, as a friend among friends, as a 
companion among companions, as a citizen among 
citizens, and also to prove himself an enemy against 
enemies. Finally, he desires to experience what the 
lover, husband, and father experience — he desires to 
rear and educate children who shall preserve and 
transmit the contents of his own life. And after he 
has lived such a life and has acquitted himself like 
an honest man, he has realized his desires ; his life is 
complete ; contentedly he awaits the end, and his 
last wish is to be gathered peacefully to his fathers." 1 
That is, to speak in general terms, man has certain 
impulses and longings, which he seeks to live out. 
As Professor James puts it, he has a material me, a 
social me, and a spiritual me, and the corresponding 
feelings and impulses. He desires to preserve and 
develop his body, to clothe it, to adorn it, to house 
it, to acquire and enjoy property, friends, and other 
possessions, to get social recognition, to be loved and 
admired, to promote his spiritual interests, and to 
assist his fellows in realizing similar desires. 

We may generalize and say : Man desires his pres- 
ervation and development, physical and mental. He 
1 Ethics, Bk. II, chap, ii, § 5. 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 255 

desires to know, to feel, to will, and to act. Some 
philosophers have regarded intellect (reason) as the 
goal, others have emphasized the feelings (pleasure), 
and still others have designated action, as the end. 1 
Some have advised us to eradicate all material striv- 
ings, and to care only for the health of the soul, by 
which they meant either our moral or religious nature, 
or both. Mediaeval ascetics regarded the body and 
all impulses except the desire to be united with God, 
as obstacles in the path of man. Natural impulses 
were regarded as the work of the devil, and there- 
fore as things that ought to be suppressed. We 
must, however, beware of one-sidedness here, and 
not emphasize one element at the expense of another. 
We may say that human life and the development 
of human life is the end. But by life we do not 
mean mere eating and drinking, i.e., the preservation 
of the body, or the exercise of any other single phase 
of life, such as thinking, feeling, or willing, but 
the unfolding of all human capacities in conformity 
with the demands of the natural and human environ- 
ment. The end is the development of body and mind 
in harmony with each other, the unfolding of all 
powers and capacities of the soul, cognitive, emo- 
tional, and volitional, in adaptation to both physical 
and psychical surroundings. A person is realizing 

1 Aristotle, Ethics, Bk. I, chap, iii (Welldon's translation): 
"Thus ordinary or vulgar people conceive it (the good) to be 
pleasure, and accordingly approve a life of enjoyment. For 
there are practically three prominent lives, the sensual, the politi- 
cal, and, thirdly, the speculative." 



256 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

the highest good when his inner life is well ordered 
or rationalized ; when the so-called lower forces are 
subordinated to the higher spiritual powers ; when 
he is what the Greeks called aaxfrpov (s5phron), or 
healthy-minded; when his body is the servant and 
symbol of the soul, and like a good servant does 
much and demands little; when there is a proper 
balance between his egoistic and altruistic impulses 
and acts, — in short, when he is a virtuous man. 1 

When we declare that the end of human striving 
is the unfolding of human life, we merely indicate 
the end in vague and general outlines. We cannot 
give a detailed and definite account of what we mean 
by human life ; we must allow humanity to fill in 
the content itself. We can tell what life is only by 
living it. As life is movement, action, the unfolding 
of capacities, our goal cannot be a fixed or stable 
one ; we cannot imagine that we shall ever reach a 

1 The following quotation, from Huxley's Science and Educa- 
tion, will show us what that writer regards as the highest good : 
" That man, I think, has a liberal education who has been so 
trained in youth that his body is the ready servant of his will, and 
does with ease and pleasure all the work that, as a mechanism, it 
is capable of ; whose intellect is a clear, cold, logic engine, with all 
its parts of equal strength, and in smooth working order ; ready, 
like a steam engine, to be turned to any kind of work, and spin 
the gossamers as well as forge the anchors of the mind ; whose 
mind is stored with the great and fundamental truths of Nature 
and of the laws of her operations ; one who, no stunted ascetic, is 
full of life and fire, but whose passions are trained to come to heel 
by a vigorous will, the servant of a tender conscience ; who has 
learned to love all beauty, whether of Nature or of art, to hate all 
vileness, and to respect others as himself." p. 86. 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 257 

point of rest, a stopping-place. The goal is a mov- 
able goal ; in fact, there is no goal in the sense of a 
destination to be reached. History and anthropology 
show us how humanity has moved from ideal to ideal, 
how there has been a gradual unfolding and differen- 
tiation of faculties, how society has advanced from the 
simple to the complex. We may say that humanity 
has taken each step consciously, without, however, 
being aware of what the next step would be. Our 
thoughts are fixed upon the present and immediate 
mainly, and now and then we get a faint glimpse of 
the future and remote. We do the work that lies 
nearest to us, and pass on to the next problem, with- 
out knowing what the solution will be and to what 
new problems it will give rise. So the human race 
performs its tasks, and takes up new ones when these 
are accomplished. We cannot tell what the next 
problem will be, although, of course, our knowledge 
of the past will, in a certain measure, enable us to 
indicate the direction in which the times are moving. 
As Jhering aptly says : " Wherein the weal and 
happiness of society consist is a question that cannot 
be answered by theory. The history of mankind 
answers it as she unrolls leaf by leaf of her book. 
Every end attained contains within itself a new one. 
The first goal must be reached before the next one 
can be sighted. Of the perfect form of the well- 
being of mankind we have no idea at all." 1 

1 Der Zwech im Becht, Vol. II, p. 205. See also Hoffding, 
Ethik, pp. 103 ff.: " Every achievement of an end is but the begin- 



258 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

3. Egoism and Altruism. 1 — The end or purpose, 
then, of all human striving, the summum bonum, is 
the preservation and perfection of human life. But 
the question at once arises, Whose preservation and 
perfection are we aiming at, our own or that of 
others ? Here again, as we saw before, 2 two answers 
are usually given. I may regard as the ideal my 
own good or the good of the race. In the one case 
we have egoism, in the other, altruism. Now which 
of these views is correct ? 

Let us formulate the problem of egoism and altru- 
ism in this way. Let us ask: (a) What is the end 
realized by human action? and (7>) What is the 
motive in the mind of the agent ? 

4. TJie Effects of Action. — Generally speaking, the 
acts performed by mankind have the tendency to 
promote individual and social welfare. Whatever 
may be his motive, it may be said that every individ- 
ual performs acts which influence, not only himself, 
but others. The relations between man and man are 



ning of a new end. Welfare is therefore not a passive condition, 
but activity, work, development." See also Wunclt, Ethics, and 
Paulsen, Ethics, Introduction, and Bk. II, chap, ii, §§ 7 ff. 

1 For views similar to those expressed in the following sections, 
see the ethical works of Bacon, Cumberland, Shaftesbury, Hutche- 
son, Butler, Hume, A. Smith, J. S. Mill, Bain, Darwin, Sidgwick ; 
Spencer, Data of Ethics, chaps, xi-xiv ; Stephen, Science of Ethics, 
chap, vi ; Hbffding, Ethik, VIII ; Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chap, vi ; 
Simmel, Einleituiuj, Vol. I, chap, ii ; Williams, Evol. Ethics, Part 
II, chaps, v, vi ; Harris, Moral Evolution ; Drummond, Ascent of 
Man; Sutherland, The Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct. 

2 See chap, iv, § 6. 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 259 

so close in a civilized community that every member's 
behavior is bound to produce effects upon the envi- 
ronment as well as upon the agent himself. The 
man who cares for his body, be his motive what it 
may, is benefiting others almost as much as himself ; 
while he who has a proper regard for the health of 
his fellows cannot fail to be benefited in his own per- 
son by his action. What benefits my family has a 
tendency to benefit me, and what benefits me has a 
tendency to benefit my family. Similarly, what 
benefits the society in which I live tends to benefit 
me, and what benefits me tends to benefit the society 
of which I am a member. 1 "The purely egoistic 
character of so-called personal virtues, for the asser- 
tion of which so much has been written, is a myth. 
No man can make a sot of himself, or indeed injure 
himself in any way, without reducing his power to 
benefit society, and harming those nearest to him." 2 
Similarly, " we are accustomed to regard honesty in 
economic life as a duty to others, but it is no less a 
duty of the individual to himself. Many proverbs 
express the experience of the race on this point : 
Honesty is the best policy ; Ill-gotten goods seldom 
prosper ; The biter is sometimes bit ; 111 got, ill 
spent." 3 The organ which performs its own func- 

1 See Spencer, Data of Ethics, chaps, xi ff. ; Paulsen, Ethics, 
Bk. II, chap. vi. 

2 Williams, A Beview of Evolutional Ethics, Part II, chaps, v 
and vi. 

8 Paulsen, Ethics, p. 385. See Bishop Butler, Human Nature and 
other Sermons, Sermon i ; end of Sermon iii ; beginning of Sermon v. 



260 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

tions properly promotes the health of the entire 
organism, and the health of the whole organism is 
advantageous to each particular organ. The indi- 
vidual is not an isolated atom, but a part of a whole, 
influencing the whole and influenced by it. 1 

We cannot, therefore, draw a sharp distinction be- 
tween egoistic and altruistic acts according to their 
effects ; an act affects not only the agent or another, 
but both. " There is no act," as Paulsen says, 2 " that 
does not influence the life of the individual as well 
as that of the surroundings, and hence cannot and 
must r iiot be viewed and judged from the standpoint 
of Both individual and general welfare. The tra- 
ditional classification, which distinguishes between 
duties toward self and duties toward others, can- 
not be recognized as a legitimate division. There is 
no duty toward individual life that cannot be con- 
strued as a duty toward others, and no duty toward 
others that cannot be proved to be a duty toward 
self." In its effects the act is both egoistic and altru- 
istic. We may regard such acts as tend to promote 
both individual and social welfare as the products of 
evolution. Persons performing acts benefiting them- 
selves, but interfering with the welfare of the group 
in which they lived, as well as persons performing 
acts benefiting the group, but injuring themselves, 
perished in the struggle for existence. Such persons, 

1 See the systems of Cumberland and Shaftesbury, chap, vii, 
§§ 9, 10. 

2 Ethics, p. 383. 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 261 

however, as learned to perform acts benefiting both 
themselves and the community, survived, and trans- 
mitted their modes of behavior to their offspring, 
either by heredity or education, or both. 

5. The Motives of Action. — Some thinkers divide 
acts into egoistic and altruistic according to the motives 
of the agent who performs them. Egoistic acts are 
such as are prompted solely by regard for self ; altru- 
istic acts are such as are prompted solely by regard 
for others. And it is asserted by some that there are 
no real altruistic acts in this sense ; that all acts are 
egoistic or instigated by a selfish motive. 

Thus Hobbes holds that every individual strives 
to preserve himself, that whatever furthers his own 
well-being is desired by him, that he cares for others 
only in so far as they are means to his own welfare. 
But since every other individual has the same object 
in view, and since this object cannot be realized 
unless each individual makes certain concessions to 
his fellows, men also act for the good of others. 1 

According to Mandeville, 2 "all actions including 
the so-called virtues spring from vanity and egoism." 
Shaftesbury is wrong in assuming the existence of 
unselfish affections or impulses. Man is by nature 
self-seeking, fear makes him social. Actions which 
apparently imply the sacrifice of selfish inclinations 

1 Chap, vii, § 7. This view was opposed by Cumberland. See 
chap, vii, § 9. 

2 Fable of the Bees; or Private Vices Public Benefits, 1714 ; 
written in opposition to Shaftesbury's system. 



262 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

for the good of society are really done out of pride 
and self-love. And this is as it should be. "Greed, 
extravagance, envy, ambition, and rivalry are the 
roots of the acquisitive impulse, and contribute more 
to the public good than benevolence and the con- 
trol of desire." 1 Hence the welfare of society really 
depends upon the vice (egoistic impulses) of its mem- 
bers. A similar view had already been expressed 
by La Rochefoucauld, 2 who regards amour-propre, or 
self-love, as the only motive to human action, and 
La Bruyere. 3 Lamettrie, 4 the materialist, is also an 
egoist in ethics, as are also Helvetius, 6 Frederick 
the Great, Voltaire, D'Alembert, and Holbach, the 
author of the Systeme de la nature . 6 

Helvetius holds that there is but one really origi- 
nal and innate impulse in man — amour-propre, self- 
love. Self-love is the source of all our desires and 
emotions; all other dispositions are acquired. Moral- 
ity is made possible by educating men to see their 
own interest in the general interest. The expecta- 
tion of reward is the only motive to morality ; if it 
were not to our interest to love virtue, there would 
be no virtue. 7 

1 Quoted from Falckenberg, History of Modern Philosophy, 
translated by Armstrong, pp. 202, 203. 

2 In his Reflexions, on sentences et maximes morales, 1665. 
8 In his Les characteres et les mceurs de ce siecle, 1687. 

4 1709-1751. 6 See chap, ii, § 6 (3). 6 1776. 

7 See also Paley and Bentham, whose systems are given in chap, 
vi. Hartley and his school regard the egoistic impulses as pri- 
mary, and sympathy as secondary or derivative. With this view, 

The following claim 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 263 

6. Criticism of Egoism. — This theory seems to me 
to be false. It is not true that the sole motive of 
human action is the preservation and advancement 
of self. To say that an act was prompted by a 
selfish motive may mean one of two things. It may 
mean either (a) that the agent had his own welfare 
clearly in view in performing the act, that is, that 
he knew that it was going to benefit him and de- 
sired it for that reason ; or it may mean (6) that 
he desired certain acts which happened to be advan- 
tageous to him, without, however, knowing that they 
were so. 

(1) If we interpret egoism in the first sense, 
then, it seems to me, many acts which are called 
egoistic are really neither egoistic nor altruistic; 
that is, the doer of them is not conscious of the 
purpose they realize. The mere fact that an animal 
desires an act which turns out to be self-preservative 
will not allow us to infer that there was a selfish 
motive behind it. When the cat runs after the 
mouse, she cannot really be said to care for herself, 
but for the mouse. She desires the mouse for its 
own sake, and has no idea of benefiting herself. 
" Our interest in things" says Professor James, " means 
the attention and emotion which the thought of them 
will excite, and the actions which their presence will 

that both egoism and sympathy are original : Bacon, Cumberland, 
Shaftesbury, Hutcheson, Butler, Hume, A. Smith, J. S. Mill, Bain, 
Darwin, Sidgwick, Spencer, Stephen. Paulsen, and Hoffding; and 
in fact, almost all the modern psychologists. 



264 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

evoke. Thus every species is particularly interested 
in its own prey or food, its own enemies, its own 
sexual mates, and its own young. These things 
fascinate by their intrinsic power to do so ; they are 
cared for for their own sakes. What my comrades 
call my bodily selfishness or self-love, is nothing but 
the sum of all the outer acts which this interest in 
my body spontaneously draws from me. My ' self- 
ishness ' is here but a descriptive name for grouping 
together the outward symptoms which I show. 
When I am led by self-love to keep my seat whilst 
ladies stand, or to grab something first and cut out 
my neighbor, what I really love is the comfortable 
seat, is the thing itself which I grab. I love them 
primarily, as the mother loves her babe, or a gen- 
erous man an heroic deed. Wherever, as here, 
self-seeking is the outcome of simple instinctive 
propensity, it is but a name for certain reflex acts. 
Something rivets my attention fatally, and fatally 
provokes the ' selfish ' response. Could an automa- 
ton be so skilfully constructed as to ape these acts, 
it would be called selfish as properly as I. It is true 
that I am no automaton, but a thinker. But my 
thoughts, like my acts, are here concerned only with 
the outward things. They need neither know nor 
care for any pure principle within. In fact, the 
more utterly c selfish ' I am in this primitive way, 
the more blindly absorbed my thought will be in the 
objects and impulses of my lusts, and the more de- 
void of any inward-looking glance. A baby, whose 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 265 

consciousness of the pure Ego, of himself as a 
thinker, is not usually supposed developed, is, in 
this way, as some German has said, ' der vollendetste 
Egoist.'" 1 

(2) If, however, we interpret egoism in the sec- 
ond sense, and say. that such acts are selfish which 
happen to be advantageous to the agent (even with- 
out his knowing it), then, again, it is not true that 
all acts are egoistic. For many acts are performed 
and desired by animals as well as men, which are 
beneficial not only to the individual who performs 
them, but also to the species to which he belongs, 
as we have already seen. That is to say, human 
beings do not perform and desire only acts which 
are conducive to their own welfare. 

(3) It is not true that we care for ourselves alone. 
We care for ourselves and we care for others. 2 The 

1 James, Psychology, Vol. I, pp. 320 f. See also Hume, Inquiry 
concerning the Principles of Morals, Appendix II, end: "In the 
same manner, there are mental passions, by which we are impelled 
immediately to seek particular objects, such as fame, or power, or 
vengeance, without any regard to interest ; and when these objects 
are attained, a pleasing enjoyment ensues, as the consequence of 
our indulged affections. Nature must, by the internal frame and 
constitution of the mind, give an original propensity to fame ere 
we can reap any pleasure from that acquisition, or pursue it from 
motives of self-love, and a desire of happiness. In all these cases, 
there is a passion which points immediately to the object, and con- 
stitutes it our good or happiness ; as there are other secondary 
passions which afterward arise, and pursue it as a part of our 
happiness, when once it is constituted such by our original affec- 
tions. Were there no appetite of any kind antecedent to self-love, 
that propensity could scarcely ever exert itself," etc. 

2 Ladd, Psychology, p. 586: "In concrete fact, men think and 



266 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

assertion that we care for ourselves alone falls as 
short of the truth as the assertion that we care for 
others alone. As a matter of fact, every human being 
is both egoistic or selfish, and altruistic or unselfish. 
Parents who love their children and are willing to 
sacrifice certain comforts in life in order that their 
children may prosper, are altruistic ; the soldier 
who takes up arms in defence of his country, from 
love of his country, has some unselfish motives. In- 
deed, just as the effects of acts tend to both personal 
and general good, so the motives may be both ego- 
istic and altruistic. It is a mistake to suppose that 
every act has but one motive. 1 Many motives com- 
bine to influence the will to action. Every man 
desires to live, it is true, but he also desires to 
keep his family alive, to be a useful member of the 
community, to help others. He does not live for 
himself alone. " There is," says Hume, 2 " some 
benevolence, however small, infused into our bosom ; 
some spark of friendship for human kind ; some par- 
ticle of the dove kneaded into our frame along with 
the elements of the wolf and serpent. Let these 
generous sentiments be supposed ever so weak ; let 
them be insufficient to move even a hand or finger 
of our body ; they must still direct the determina- 
tions of our mind, and, where everything else is 

feel far less with direct reference to self than is ordinarily sup- 
posed." 

1 See Darwin, quoted in chap, viii, § 7 (1). 

2 Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, Section IV. 






THE HIGHEST GOOD 267 

equal, produce a cool preference of what is useful 
and serviceable to mankind to what is pernicious 
and dangerous." 1 

The mission of the individual seems to be to live 
and let live. His impulses are turned in the direc- 
tion of self-preservation and the preservation of his 
species. This means that he desires acts which tend to 
preserve himself and others. He need not know that 
they have these results ; but he may become aware 
of the utility of such acts, and then perform them 
consciously, in order to realize the end reached by 
them. Nature often works in the dark, as it were ; 
the object may be realized without the individual's 
knowing what it is, or consciously aiming at it. 

7. Selfishness and Sympathy. — But, it may be 
asked, is not the conscious desire to benefit oneself 
stronger as a motive than that to advance others ? 
We must confess that, generally speaking, it is. 
The individual desires to live, first of all ; then he 
desires the life of others. This is as it should be. 
Each individual must perforin acts which make for 

1 See also Section V, Part II, note : "It is needless to push our 
researches so far as to ask why we have humanity, or a fellow- 
feeling with others. It is sufficient that this is experienced to be a 
principle of human nature. We must stop somewhere in our exam- 
ination of causes ; and there are, in every science, some general 
principles, beyond which we cannot hope to find any principle 
more general. No man is absolutely indifferent to the happiness 
and misery of others.' 1 See Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chap, vi; 
Williams, Evolutional Ethics, pp. 383 ff. ; Darwin, Descent of 
Man, chap, iv ; Simmel, Einleitung in die, Moralwissenschaft, Vol. 
I, chap, ii; Lipps, Eihische Grundfragen, Lecture I. 



INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

self-preservation, and it is to be supposed that the 
work can be best performed by the person directly 
interested. But, as was noticed before, the acts 
tending to realize his purpose do not necessarily run 
counter to the acts of others. He may advance 
himself without interfering with others ; indeed, 
by looking out for himself and his interests, he in 
a large measure advances the interests of the whole 
of which he forms a part, and at the same time 
puts himself in the position to benefit others more 
directly. Still, there is a point beyond which indi- 
vidual aspirations cannot well go without causing 
injury to others. A person's conscious desire to 
advance himself may become so strong, or external 
conditions may become such, as to tempt him to seek 
his own welfare at the expense of that of his sur- 
roundings. 1 In order to hinder this result and to 
keep each individual on his own ground, moral codes 
have been developed, and these in turn have led to 
the development of moral feelings. In other words, 
morality is the outgrowth of the conflict between 
individual interests. When one individual injures 
another in the struggle for existence, he arouses the 
resentment of the latter, as well as the sympathetic 
resentment of all disinterested spectators. The com- 
bined feelings and impulses aroused by the aggres- 

1 It is also possible that a person's sympathy may lead him to 
perform acts which are dangerous to the community, and that his 
selfishness may injure him. Wherever his acts tend to harm the 
community, they are disapproved. 






THE HIGHEST GOOD 269 

sor's selfishness give birth to injunctions : Thou 
shalt, and Thou shalt not. In the course of time, 
as has been already explained, the moral sentiments 
are developed, and come to the rescue of the sympa- 
thetic feelings when these are in danger of being 
overwhelmed by selfishness. If it were not for the 
fact that human beings come in conflict with each 
other in their desire to live, there would be no need 
of the moral law. Moral laws aim to hinder con- 
duct which makes impossible social life, or rather 
such conduct as a group of men have found by 
experience, or believe, to be antagonistic to their 
purposes. 1 

8. Moral Motive and Moral Action. — Men, then, 
are neither purely egoistic nor purely altruistic, 
whether we judge their conduct from the standpoint 
of the motive or from the standpoint of the effect. 
We may now ask : (a) How ought they to feel in 
order to be called moral? and (6) How ought they 
to act in order to be called moral ? 

(1) Schopenhauer declares that no act has moral 
worth unless it is the result of pure altruistic feeling, 
unless it is actuated by the weal or woe of another. 
If the motive which impels me to action is my own 
welfare, my act has no moral worth at all. Fichte 
goes so far as to say : " There is but one virtue, and 
that is to forget oneself as a person ; but one vice, to 
think of oneself. Whoever in the slightest degree 

1 See article on the " Moral Law," in the International Journal 
of Ethics, January, 1900. 



270 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

thinks of his own personality, and desires a life and 
existence and any self -enjoyment whatsoever, except 
for the species, is fundamentally and radically, a 
petty, low, wicked, and wretched fellow." 1 

This is a one-sided view, in my opinion. The 
question at issue here is not, What must be a man's 
motive in order that you or I may regard him as 
moral? but, What must be his motive in order that 
he be regarded moral in the judgment of the race ? 
Now, are only such acts approved of by mankind as 
are prompted by a purely altruistic motive ? 

We can hardly claim it. In the first place, as has 
already been pointed out, we judge of acts subjec- 
tively and objectively. 2 We often regard an act as 
objectively moral regardless of the motives prompt- 
ing it. Besides, as has also been said, our motives 
are always complex ; they are never absolutely ego- 
istic or absolutely altruistic, but mixed. We do not 
necessarily call a man immoral because he cares for 
his own welfare, as Fichte holds that we ought to do ; 
nor do we call an act that is prompted by a mixture 
of self- regarding and other -regarding feelings non- 
moral. We commend a person who is industrious 
and useful because he desires to support himself and 
family. It is not necessary that a man do what he 
does from a purely altruistic motive and no other. 
He may act from a sense of duty, as we have shown 
in our chapter on Conscience, and as Kant declares 

1 Characteristics of the Present Age, § 70. 

2 See chap, v, § 9 (6). 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 271 

he must act in order that his act may have moral 
worth at all. 

Still, it must be confessed that, if his motive were 
absolutely egoistic, that is, if he did what he did 
merely in order to benefit himself, regardless of the 
weal and woe of others, if he had no spark of sympa- 
thy in him, we should not regard him as a moral 
man. Indeed, we should regard him as an abnor- 
mal human being, as a perverse character. The 
reason for this is perhaps to be sought in the fact 
that an extreme egoist would be apt to endanger 
social life. A man who thinks of himself all the 
time and of himself only, will, unless he be exceed- 
ingly shrewd, injure others. The feelings of sym- 
pathy and brotherly love, and the feelings of moral 
approval, disapproval, and obligation, will, on the 
other hand, tend to give his conduct a more altruistic 
direction and thereby promote social welfare. The 
ends of morality can, therefore, be best subserved by 
human beings who have sympathetic feelings and 
impulses in addition to their self -regarding feelings 
and impulses. This is the reason why the sympa- 
thetic motive is valued, and why acts springing from 
pure egoism are often regarded as not falling within 
the scope of morals. But it must not be forgotten : 
(a) that egoism is not condemned morally as long as 
it does not conflict with altruism ; (5) that when it 
cooperates with altruism to produce good results, 
it receives moral approval ; (c) that when its absence 
causes harm, the lack of it is condemned. The 



272 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

suicide who cares nothing for his own life receives 
the moral disapproval of mankind. 

(2) It is held by some that the good of humanity 
is best achieved by the unimpeded play of egoism. 1 
Man should satisfy his desire for power ; he ought 
to live for himself and not for others, and not allow 
himself to be moved by compassion or pity, which is 
the virtue of weaklings. Everything is right that 
increases man's consciousness of power, his desire 
for power, and his power. Let the weaklings and 
unhealthy perish, and help them to perish. The 
strongest ought to rule, the weak obey. The anar- 
chist and the Christian, says Nietzsche, are made of 
the same stuff ; they are both rooted in sympathy, 
and seek to hamper the progress of the individual. 
A similar view is frequently advanced by evolu- 
tionists. Life is governed by the struggle for exist- 
ence, and those most fitted for the fray are selected 
(survival of the fittest). Only when this principle 
is allowed to act without hindrance can the best 
results be obtained. Altruism is a means of injuring 
the race, not a means of preservation, for it makes 
possible the survival of the weak, of all individuals 
not adapted to their environment. Our sympathy 
impels us to care for and to preserve the weak, the 
sick, the crippled, and the insane, elements in our 
population which the free play of egoism would 
eliminate, and ought to be allowed to eliminate, for 
the perfection of the race. 

1 See, for example, Stiraer, Der Einzige und sein Eigentum, 
and Nietzsche's writings. 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 273 

We answer : The hnrnan race would not have 
reached its present state of development without 
the aid of sympathy and cooperation. It is the 
social instinct in animals which enables them to act 
together, and it is this tendency to cooperate which 
gives them advantages over other species. In union 
there is strength. A group of men can accomplish 
more than each individual singly. If there were no 
altruism in the race, what would become of offspring? 
Would social life be possible if men did not desire 
to live with their fellows, and is not this desire to 
associate with kind altruism? 

Sympathy and cooperation are useful to the race. 
If they were not, or if they were harmful, they 
would be eliminated. The sympathetic impulses, 
however, do not seem to be growing weaker, but 
stronger. Of course, extreme sympathy is danger- 
ous, as dangerous as extreme egoism. Neither our 
egoistic nor our sympathetic impulses are good or 
bad as such ; they are made so by the controlling 
influence of reason. Irrational sympathy is bad, 
and harmful to the race, and ought to be eliminated. 
And the same remarks apply to irrational egoism. 
" Social harmony can never be reached by the stub- 
born continuance of each in his line of inharmonious 
conduct, but can only be attained by such gradual 
moulding of habit and desire, that by natural organi- 
zation individuals will come to be in harmony with 
each other. It is the history of social evolution that 
the individual, though always determining what are 

T 



274 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

his own needs, as it is obvious that he can best do, 
is increasingly aided in satisfying them by coopera- 
tion, while he also gives increasing aid in return. 
Against the list of the advantages of egoism enu- 
merated by Spencer and others, I would muster the 
advantages of altruism, for by cooperation alone can 
the individual attain the pleasures which now so 
often lie beyond his reach ; by it alone can society 
attain a higher plane ; and the pleasures of altruism 
are the highest and most unfailing. The selfish man 
will suffer disappointment and loss as well as the 
benevolent man, and he will lack the refuge of sym- 
pathy, and of the power to find happiness in the 
happiness of others. What man who has felt the 
joys of sympathy would exchange even the hard- 
ships it brings for the brutal liberty and unmoved 
selfishness of the savage ; what man who has known 
the joys of the higher, the more unselfish, love, would 
exchange them for the ungoverned and quickly 
palling pleasures of the profligate ? Those joys first 
lend life worth and meaning ; through association 
and altruism, cooperation in action and feeling, man 
first becomes a power in the world. Yet the man 
who is capable of the higher sympathy is incapable 
of a selfish calculation of its personal advantages to 
him." 1 

(3) And now let us look at the acts regardless of 
the motives which have prompted them. Do we 

1 Williams, A Bpvicw of Evolutional Ethics, chap, viii, p. 513. 
See also Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chap, vi, § 5. 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 275 

demand that personal interests be invariably sacri- 
ficed to the interests of others ? And must we make 
this sacrifice in every case in order to subserve the 
ends of morality ? I do not believe it. We do not 
expect a person to sacrifice his important interests 
to the unimportant interests of another. It is right 
and proper that a person should sacrifice himself for 
the real interests of his family ; but it is not neces- 
sary that he should sacrifice himself in order that 
his wife and children might enjoy things which 
were never intended for them. It is right and proper 
for me to offer up my life in the defence of my 
country ; but it cannot be required that I sacrifice 
myself in order to save a lady's pug dog from being 
run over by a carriage. It is right that I should 
deny myself many pleasures and comforts for the 
sake of helping others ; but it is not right that I 
should ruin my health and impede my own intellec- 
tual development in order to keep a drunken loafer 
out of the poorhouse. 

In order that the ends of morality may be realized, 
men must be altruistic, of course. They must work 
for others, and they must be able to make sacrifices 
for others. But they cannot work for others without 
first working for themselves. They cannot care for 
themselves in the proper way if they allow their care 
for others to go too far. We may say, I believe, 
that each man ought to care for his own good, 
for the good of his family, for his neighbors, his 
town, his county, his state, his nation, and humanity 



276 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

at large. He should work from the centre to the 
periphery, that is, protect and advance his own inter- 
ests and those of his family, and then those of far- 
ther circles. Charity begins at home. 1 " It is wisely 
ordained by nature," sa}^s Hume, " that private con- 
nections should commonly prevail over universal 
views and considerations ; otherwise our affections 
and actions would be dissipated and lost for want of 
a proper limited object. Thus a small benefit done 
to ourselves or our near friends, excites more lively 
sentiments of love and approbation, than a great 
benefit done to a distant commonwealth." 2 

9. Biology and the Highest Good. — Biology, too, 
will give us some hints concerning the direction of 
life or the ideal toward which we are making. On 
the lowest stages of animal existence life consists 
wholly in the acquisition of food and in attempts to 
ward off unfavorable external influences. If there 
are any psychical processes at all, they are exceed- 
ingly simple. Gradually, hoAvever, sexual and social 
impulses arise, the intelligence develops, and we have 
the beginnings of social and intellectual life which 
reach their highest stage in man. As conscious life 
develops the so-called lower faculties are subordi- 
nated to the higher ones, the sensuous feelings and 
impulses are placed under the control of the reason, 
and are regarded as inferior to the others ; the ego- 
istic feelings and impulses yield, in a large measure, 

1 See Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chap, vi, pp. 391 ff. 

2 Principles of Morals, Section V, Part II. 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 277 

to sympathetic feelings and impulses, and the indi- 
vidual is subordinated to society. The spiritual 
forces are unfolded, the spiritual me takes prece- 
dence in the hierarchy of the mes of the material 
me. The so-called lower functions are not, of course, 
neglected ; they are exercised, on the one hand, for 
their own sake, as partial ends in themselves, but 
they are especially conceived as means to higher 
ends — the unfolding of the spiritual powers. Simi- 
larly, the individual comes to be regarded, on the 
one hand, as a whole, as an end in himself, and, on 
the other, as a part of a wider whole, as a part of 
humanity. We may liken this relation to the rela- 
tion which the different members of an organism 
bear to the entire organism. The heart, the brain, 
the hands, the eyes, the muscles, the bones, etc., are 
all means to an end, the preservation of the body. 
B at they are at the same time parts of the body ; 
they are the body, and hence means of preserving 
themselves. 1 The welfare of the body depends upon 
the welfare of its organs, and the welfare of the 
organs depends upon the welfare of the whole. In 
a perfect organism the parts work harmoniously to 
a common end. The parts are means to an end 
(seeing is a means to an end), and yet ends in them- 
selves (seeing is valuable in itself). So the indi- 
vidual is both a means to an end and an end in 
himself. 

We may safely assert, I believe, that history is 
1 See Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chap, ii, § 7. 



278 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS 

tending toward the further development of spiritual 
life and toward a fuller realization of the individual 
in society. We may say that humanity will continue 
to advance in intelligence and morality, that man- 
kind will gain a deeper insight into the workings of 
psychical and physical nature, and a larger control 
over reality, and that there will be less friction 
between the different members of society and the 
different societies themselves. 1 

10. Morality and the Highest G-ood. — We have 
found thus far, I believe, that the preservation and 
promotion of individual and social life is the highest 
good, or the end aimed at by humanity, in the sense 
explained before. That is, the individual human 
being strives to preserve and advance himself as 
well as those persons with whom he sympathizes. 
At first the sympathetic impulse is both weak and 
narrow in its scope, being limited to the members 
of a small group. In the course of time, however, 
the consciousness of kind develops more and more, 
the feeling of sympathy increases in intensity, and 
extends to wider and wider circles. A glance at the 
growth of religions, which always embody the con- 
ceptions and ideals of men, exemplifies this gradual 
extension of other-regarding or sympathetic feelings. 
There is an advance from the narrow family religion 
through the universal type to the universal religion 
of Christianity. 2 The history of Greece and Rome 

1 See Sutherland, Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct. 

2 See Sir Henry Maine, Early Law and Custom, p. 57. 






THE HIGHEST GOOD 279 

also shows a gradual progress of sympathy. 1 Of 
Rome Lecky says : " The moral expression of the 
first period is obviously to be found in the narrower 
military and patriotic virtues ; that of the second 
period in enlarged philanthropy and sympathy." 2 
Our sympathies are widening and deepening in mod- 
ern times, as witness universal peace congresses, de- 
mands for international arbitration, protests against 
the barbarities practised in many of the less civilized 
countries, the progress of socialism, the building of 
hospitals and other charitable institutions, the estab- 
lishment of societies for the prevention of cruelty to 
animals. We care not only for ourselves as indi- 
viduals and as a nation, but for humanity in general. 
But the time has not yet come when there will 
be no more conflicts between self -regarding impulses 
and acts, and other-regarding impulses and acts. 
The selfishness of the individual is apt to overwhelm 
his sympathy in many instances, and to lead him to 
encroach upon the domain of others. He is, how- 
ever, kept in check by the self-assertion of those 
upon whose claims he trespasses, as well as by the 
sympathetic opposition of his fellows. Rules gradu- 
ally come into existence forbidding certain modes of 
conduct and enjoining others. Certain acts arouse 
in consciousness the moral sentiments referred to 
before, and we have moral codes. Morality is there- 
fore developed as a necessary means of realizing the 

1 Lecky, History of European Morals, Vol. I, pp. 228 1 
2 /6., Vol. I, p. 239. 



J 



280 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

highest good, or the unconditional desires of the 
human race. If the highest good could be realized 
without a moral code, as we intimated before, there 
would be no moral laws, or any other laws, for that 
matter. Laws are made to hinder certain things 
and to enforce others, and arise only after the par- 
ticular actions have taken place. In a certain sense, 
therefore, the lawbreakers are the lawmakers. 

One thing I should like to emphasize here, and 
that is that-' morality is a means to an end ; %hat, 
generally speaking, the moral code embraces only 
such rules as make it possible for human beings to 
realize the end or purpose or highest good. Moral- 
ity aims to remove all the obstacles in the way of the 
end. It is not the embodiment of all the aims and 
strivings of the race. It is not so comprehensive as 
to guide the individual in all his attempts to realize 
the highest good. In other words, not all modes of 
conduct are felt as obligatory which satisfy the 
desires of the race. Only such acts will gather 
around them the moral sentiments as are commanded 
by the race, and only such will be commanded, in the 
main, as are absolutely necessary, or are believed to 
be necessary, to the life of society. 

The moral code, then, does not embrace the whole 
of conduct. Life and its ideals are broader than 
morality. The aims and ideals of humanity are 
not exhausted by the aims of morality. Without 
morality humanity cannot reach its goal ; morality 
is the conditio sine qua non, but the fulfilment of the 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 281 

law alone will not realize the aspirations of man- 
kind. 1 To illustrate : The laws of hygiene must 
be observed in order that I may reach my goal ; the 
laws of hygiene are means to a higher end ; obedi- 
ence to them is an essential condition of the realiza- 
tion of my hopes and aspirations. But it does not 
follow from this that if I obey them my aims will 
be realized. My aims are broader than the aims of 
hygiene. So my aims as a human being are broader 
than my aims as a moral being; they include the 
laws of morality, but are not exhausted by them. 

Another point needs emphasis. The purpose of 
the moral law, we may say, is to make possible indi- 
vidual and social life. Moral acts tend to promote 
individual and social welfare. Morality draws the 
circle, as it were, within which human beings may 
safely pursue their ends without doing injury to 
each other. Stealing, lying, and murder tend to 
injure both the agent and his environment; there- 
fore the command, Do not steal, lie, or murder. 
Honesty, truthfulness, and self-control tend to pro- 
mote the welfare of the man who possesses these 
virtues as well as of his surroundings ; therefore, 
be truthful, honest, and moderate. 

If the view advanced in the foregoing is correct, 
we can draw certain conclusions. If morality is in 
the service of the ideal or highest good, then it must, 
in a measure, be dependent on this ideal. Changes 
in the ideals of the race will lead to changes in the 

1 See Mtinsterberg, Ur sprung der Sittlichkeit, IV, pp. 98 ff. 



282 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

moral code. Now we have already noticed that 
ideals change and grow. One age and people is 
more combative or more peace-loving, or more self- 
ish or more sympathetic than another, and will 
therefore emphasize the virtue of courage or submis- 
sion or self-assertion or benevolence. Where the 
ideal is an ascetic one, the moral law will prohibit 
forms of conduct which are not only regarded as 
totally indifferent, but even essential in societies 
aiming, say, at physical advancement. The care 
which the ancient Greek bestowed upon his body 
seemed not only foolish, but sinful, to the mediaeval 
saint. Where the ideal is a political one, it is re- 
garded as the duty of the citizen to take part in 
politics. When the sphere of persons sympathized 
with is a narrow one, as is frequently the case at the 
beginnings of historical life, the moral code embraces 
only the members of the same tribe or nation. The 
Greeks regarded all foreigners as barbarians and 
enemies, and the Jews always looked upon them- 
selves as the chosen people of God. 1 

Now it frequently happens that the moral code of 
a people does not keep step with its ideals ; indeed, 
it may even be an impediment to the realization of 
the highest good. In such cases a conflict is apt to 
ensue between the old and the new. The conserva- 



1 Foreigner and enemy originally meant the same thing ; think 
of the words %evos and hostis. See R£e, Entstehung des Geirissens, 
p. 1")0; Hearn, Aryan Household, p. 19; M'Lennan, Primitive 
Marriage, p. 107 ; and others quoted by R£e. 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 283 

tive element will cling to the old rules, while the 
younger generation will turn its face to the future. 
When Jesus Christ preached the doctrine of univer- 
sal brotherly love, and changed the old narrow 
Hebrew conception of God and His relation to man, 
he made a change in morality absolutely necessary. 

Even where ideals remain practically stable, con- 
ditions may change to such an extent as to make old 
forms of conduct useless and even harmful, and new 
ones necessary. But human beings are creatures of 
habit, and look with suspicion on the new. Conse- 
quently, certain modes of conduct are often con- 
tinued and enjoined as right long after they have 
lost their raison d'etre. 1 

But there are many modes of conduct which re- 
main moral in spite of all changes in ideals, and they 
are those without the observance of which no earthly 
ideal can ever be realized. No community can exist 
and pursue ideals, in which falsehood, murder, and 
treachery thrive. Even a band of thieves must obey 
some of the laws of morality in order to be able to 
live together at all. Only in case the ideal were 
death and ruin instead of life and happiness, would 
the commonly accepted rules of morality have to 
give way to others. A community seeking death 
instead of life, ought not to foster the virtues of 
truth, honor, loyalty, honesty, justice, and chastity, 
for these are the very life of life. " The wages of 
sin is death." 

1 See Paulsen's Ethics, Introduction. 



284 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

11. Conclusion. — Our conclusion is this : The 
summum bonum or highest good is that which 
human beings universally strive after for its own 
sake, which for them has absolute worth. It differs 
for different nations and times, depending upon 
different inner and outer conditions. Hence it is 
not possible to give a detailed picture of the highest 
good. All that we can do is to observe the similar- 
ities existing between the different ideals of human- 
ity, and to embrace these under a general formula or 
principle. This formula or principle is, of course, 
bound to be vague and indefinite, a mere outline of 
the general direction of human strivings. We 



defined it as the preservation and unfolding of indi- 
vidual and social, physical and spiritual life, in adap- 
tation to the surroundings. Whatever rules are 
developed by mankind for the realization of the 
highest good, and produce the moral sentiments re- 
ferred to before, are called moral rules. The object 
of these rules is to make the realization of the ideal 
possible. Morality is a means to an end, just as 
law is a means to an end. But in the case of moral- 
ity the rules must, generally speaking, arouse certain 
sentiments, such as obligation, approval, disapproval, 
etc. Hence moral facts are characterized by the 
effects which acts and motives have upon the con- 
sciousness of the individuals as well as upon their 
general welfare. 

The knowledge we have gained thus far will 
enable us to examine the different moral codes, and 



THE HIGHEST GOOD 285 

to criticize them. We can now judge of a people's 
conduct in a more rational way ; we can tell whether 
the race is realizing its purpose, the highest good. 
We can also tell what modes of conduct are neces- 
sary to the realization of the ideal, and say that they 
ought to be pursued. This part of our problem 
would belong to practical ethics. 



CHAPTER X 

OPTIMISM VEBSUS PESSIMISM i 

1. Optimism and Pessimism. — We said that the 
end or aim of human life, i.e., the highest good, was 
the exercise of human functions. This means, of 
course, that human beings set a value upon things, 
that they regard certain ends as having absolute 
worth for them. They value their lives and those 
of others ; they prize development and progress for 
its own sake. In other words, they regard life 
as worth living, as good, as the best thing for them 
(optimum). We may call this view optimism. 

This conception is opposed by a set of thinkers 
who declare that life is not worth living, that it is 
not a good, but an evil, not the best thing, but the 
worst thing (pessimum). We may call this theory 



1 Diihring, Der Werth des Lebens ; Hartmann, Zur Geschichte 
und Begrundung des Pessimismus ; Sully, Pessimism, A History 
and Criticism; Sommer, Der Pessimismus und die Sittenlehre; 
Pliimacher, Der Pessimismus in Vergangenheit und Gegenwart ; 
Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chaps, iii, iv, vii ; Wallace, "Pessimism," 
Encyclopedia Britannica ; Lubbock, The Pleasures of Life. See 
the bibliography in Sully's Pessimism, pp. xvii, xix. For much 
that is contained in the following chapter I am indebted to Paul- 
sen's admirable chapters on " Pessimism," " The Evil, the Bad and 
Theodicy," and "Virtue and Happiness." 

286 



OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 287 

Let us examine this view somewhat more in detail. 
There are two ways of treating the subject. I may 
say that my life is not worth living, that 7 do not rare 
for it, that to me it seems an evil rather than a good. 
Here I offer no proofs for my statements, but sim- 
ply express my personal feelings toward life, my 
individual attitude toward it. This is subjective or 
unscientific pessimism. Or I may attempt to prove 
scientifically that life in general is not worth living, 
that it is unreasonable or illogical for any one to 
care for it. This is objective or scientific or philo- 
sophical pessimism. We shall have occasion to 
refer to both forms in the course of the following 
discussion. 

2. Subjective Pessimism. — Lord Bacon gives us a 
characteristic estimate of the value of life in these 
pessimistic lines : — 

" The world's a bubble, and the life of man 

Less than a span : 
In his conception wretched, from the womb 

So to the tomb ; 
Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years 

With cares and fears. 
Who then to frail mortality shall trust, 
But limns on water, or but writes in dust." 

Shakespeare's Hamlet expresses himself in a simi- 
lar strain : — 

" How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable 
Seem to me the uses of this world ; 
Fie on't, oh, fie ! 'Tis an unweeded garden 
That grows to seed ; things rank and gross in nature 
Possess it merely." 



288 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

And Keats in his Ode to the Nightingale draws an 
equally mournful picture of the world in which his 
unhappy lot has been cast : — 

" Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget 

What thou among the leaves hast never known, 
The weariness, the fever, and the fret 

Here, where men sit and hear each other groan ; 
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, 

Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; 
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow 
And leaden-eyed despairs ; 
Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, ■ 
Or new love pine at them beyond to-morrow." 

These pessimistic utterances, however, prove noth- 
ing but the temporary mood of the poet who gives 
vent to them. They are common to every age and 
every clime, and are symptoms of the weariness and 
disappointment that lay hold upon the race in its 
struggle toward perfection. There is scarcely a 
person living who does not sometimes succumb to 
the black demon of melancholy, who does not at 
times long " to lie down like a tired child and weep 
away this life of care." And we may say that he is 
none the worse for it. Pessimistic broodings are 
like the storm-clouds that gather on the horizon, 
and in a healthy life pass away as quickly as they 
came, leaving the mental atmosphere calm and pure. 
It is only when such moods become chronic and per- 
manent that they prove dangerous to both the indi- 
vidual and the race, for unless we regard life as worth 
living we shall not live it as it ought to be lived. 



OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 289 

There are persons, however, with whom pessimism 
is not merely a passing feeling, but a philosophic 
creed. A man may, like Hamlet or Faust, look upon 
life as burdensome to him, and express himself to 
that effect. When Hamlet says that the world seems 
weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable to him, we cannot 
refute him, because he is simply telling how the 
world affects him, what feelings it arouses in him. 
His feelings are facts, and as such incontrovertible. 
When you tell me that you do not value life, that 
you prefer death to life, and wish you had never 
been born, I cannot refute you any more than you can 
refute me when I say that I love life and am glad I 
am here. We are both simply giving expression to 
our feelings, and no one knows better how we feel 
than we ourselves. De gustibus non disputandum. 

3. Scientific Pessimism. — But when you dogmati- 
cally declare that life is not worth living, that there 
is nothing in it for anybody, that it has absolutely 
no value, that instead of being a blessing it is a 
curse, you are making general assertions which call 
for proof. You are advancing a theory of life which 
shall be valid for all, and theories can be proved and 
refuted. You will have to show why life is not 
worth living ; you will have to give reasons for your 
view, and reasons we can examine and criticise. 
Now, it can be shown, I believe, that pessimism as 
a philosophic creed is untenable, and that the opti- 
mistic conception of life is far more rational. 1 

1 Philosophical pessimists : Schopenhauer, World as Will and 



290 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

Let us see. The pessimist may argue that life 
is not worth living because it does not realize the 
end or goal desired by man. Life is worthless be- 
cause it fails to yield what human beings most prize, 
because it fails to realize the summum bonum or the 
highest good. Hence, to desire life is to desire some- 
thing you really do not want, — an exceedingly 
senseless procedure. 

But what is the highest good ? it may be asked; what 
is the goal at which we are all aiming ? There are as 
many different forms of pessimism as there are answers 
to this question. Let us consider some of them. 

(a) The highest good is knowledge, one pessimist 
may argue ; life does not realize it for us, we do not 
and cannot know anything ; hence, life is not worth 
living. Let us call this intellectual pessimism. It 
is preached by such characters as Faust: — 

" I've studied now Philosophy, 
And Jurisprudence, Medicine, — 
And even, alas, Theology, — 
From end to end, with labor keen ; 
And here, poor fool, with all my lore 
I stand no wiser than before." x 

(£>) The highest good is pleasure or happiness, 
says another pessimist. Now life does not realize 

Idea, English translation by Haldane and Kemp, Vol. I, Bk. IV ; 
Vol. II, Appendix to Bk. IV ; Pai-erga, chaps, xi, xii, xiv ; Balm- 
sen, Zur Philosophie der Geschichte ; Mainlander, Die Philosophic 
der Erlosung ; Hartmann, Die Philosophie des Unbewussten, 
translated by Coupland. Consult Sully's bibliography referred to 
before, and read his preface to the second edition. 
1 Bayard Taylor's translation of Goethe's Faust. 



OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 291 

this end ; indeed, it yields more pain than pleasure ; 
hence, life is a failure. We find traces of this view, 
which we might call emotional pessimism, in the Old 
Testament, as, indeed, we are bound to find them in 
every book that holds the. mirror up to the soul of 
man. " For what hath man of all his labor, and of 
all the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath labored 
under the sun. For all his days are sorrows, and his 
travail grief ; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the 
night." " The days of our age are threescore years 
and ten, and though men be so strong that they come 
to fourscore years : yet is their strength then but 
labor and sorrow; so soon passeth it away, and we 
are gone." 

(c) No, says still another, the highest good is vir- 
tue; life does not realize virtue, men are wicked, the 
world is thoroughly bad ; hence, life in a world like 
this is not worth living. " The race is not to the 
swift nor the battle to the strong ; neither yet bread 
to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, 
nor yet favor to men of skill." This way of looking 
at the world let us characterize as volitional pessimism. 

4. Intellectual Pessimism. — All these syllogisms 
contain unproved premises. Take the first. Knowl- 
edge is the highest good, knowledge is impossible, 
we do not know anything and we cannot know 
anything. In the first place, knowledge is not the 
highest good, but a part of the good, a means to an 
end. As we said before, the goal for which we are 
striving is a mixed life of knowledge, feeling, and 



292 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

willing. The perfect or well-rounded man is not 
one in whom the intellectual faculties are developed 
at the expense of the emotional and volitional 
elements, but one who knows, feels, and wills in a 
normal manner. Besides, it cannot be said that we 
know nothing and can know nothing, nor can it be 
said that we are growing more ignorant in the course 
of history. We may not be able to discover the 
ultimate essences of things, or to solve all the riddles 
of existence, but our knowledge is sufficient to guide 
us in the practical affairs of life. We are gaining a 
deeper insight into the workings of nature, and our 
power over the world is increasing in consequence. 
The wonderful progress that has been made in mod- 
ern technics is undoubtedly due to our improved 
knowledge of the laws of the physical universe, 
and it is safe to predict that we shall make even 
greater advances along these lines in the future. 
But we have learned from experience in all depart- 
ments of life, and are doing our work much better 
than it has been done in the past, and succeeding 
generations will most likely improve upon our 
methods. 

5. Emotional Pessimism. — This form of pessimism 
is also open to criticism. Let us see. Pleasure or 
happiness is the highest good. Life does not procure 
it for us ; hence life is not good. But pleasure is 
not the end of life, as we have already pointed out ; 
pleasure or happiness is a means to a higher end and 
a part of that end. However, let us waive this point, 






OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 293 

and examine the other statement, the one that life 
yields more pain than pleasure. There are two pos- 
sible ways of arguing for the truth of this assertion. 
We must either show, by reference to experience, 
that the world is a vale of tears, which would give 
us an inductive proof ; or we must prove on a 'priori 
grounds that life cannot possibly be happy, that 
human nature and the very universe itself are so con- 
stituted as to preclude the possibility of such a thing. 
(1) Now, I ask, can either proof be furnished? 
Pessimists are fond of telling us that life yields a 
surplus of pain, that the balance is on the pain side 
of the ledger. But it is impossible to make the 
necessary calculations in this field. Take your own 
individual existence. Can you say that a particular 
pain is more painful than a particular pleasure is 
pleasurable ? Then can you add up the different 
pleasures and pains which you have experienced 
during a single day or hour of your life, and com- 
pare the results ? And can you, in like manner, 
compute the pleasures and pains of your entire life, 
and say that your pains exceed your pleasures ? 
And if you cannot give a safe estimate of the pleas- 
ures and pains of your own life, with which you are 
reasonably familiar, how can you make the calcula- 
tions for others, and for the entire race, and say that 
they suffer more than they enjoy ? How can you 
say that the amount of pleasure realized by one indi- 
vidual is counterbalanced or exceeded by the pain 
suffered by another ? 



294 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

(2) The great German pessimist, Schopenhauer, 
attempts to prove deductively, from the nature of 
man's will, that life yields more pains than pleas- 
ures. Life consists of blind cravings which are pain- 
ful so long as they are not satisfied. When I desire a 
thing and do not get it, I am miserable ; when I get 
it I am satisfied for a moment, and then desire some- 
thing else, and am miserable again. I am never 
permanently satisfied ; I am constantly yearning for 
something I do not possess ; there is a worm in 
every flower. " Every human life oscillates between 
desire and fulfilment. Wishes are by their very 
nature painful ; their realization soon sates us ; the 
goal was but an illusion ; possession takes away the 
desire, but the wish reappears under a new form ; 
if not, emptiness, hollowness, ennui, Langeweile, 
results, which is as much of a torture as want." x I 
go on hoping for better things day in, day out, but 
they never come. One illusion merely gives way 
to another. I keep on longing and longing until 
the angel of death takes pity on me and folds me 
under his wing. Each particular day brings me 
nearer to the grave, the awful end of it all. Touch- 
stone is right when he soliloquizes : — 

" It is ten o'clock. 
Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags : 
'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine; 
And after an hour more 'twill be eleven ; 

1 Schopenhauer's Works, Frauenstadt's edition, The World as 
Will and Idea, Vol. I, p. 370. 






OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 295 

And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe; 
And then from hour to hour we rot and rot ; 
And thereby hangs a tale ! " 

We are like shipwrecked mariners who struggle 
and struggle to save their wearied bodies from the 
terrible waves, only to be engulfed in them at last. 1 
" The life of most men," says Schopenhauer, " is but 
a continuous struggle for existence, — a struggle 
which they are bound to lose at last. 2 " " Every 
breath we draw is a protest against the Death which 
is constantly threatening us, and against which we 
are fighting every second. But Death must conquer 
after all, for we are his by birth, and he simply plays 
with his prey a little while before devouring it. We, 
however, take great pains to prolong our lives as far 
as we can, just as we blow soap-bubbles as long and 
as large as possible, though we know with absolute 
certainty that they must break at last." 3 In an 
old poem by William Drummond a similar thought 
is expressed : — 

" This life which seems so fair, 
Is like a bubble blown up in the air 
By sporting children's breath, 
Who chase it everywhere 
And strive who can most motion it bequeath. 
And though it sometimes seem of its own might 
Like to an eye of gold to be fixed there, 
And firm to hover in that empty height, 
That only is because it is so light. 

1 The World as Will and Idea, Vol. I, p. 369. 
2 /6., p. 368. -lb., p. 367. 



296 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

— But in that pomp it doth not long appear ; 
For when 'tis most admired, in a thought, 
Because it erst was nought, it turns to nought." 

Another proof of the futility of life is this : Hap- 
piness is a purely negative quantity. It can never 
be realized except by the satisfaction of a desire. 
With the satisfaction of the desire, however, the 
desire itself, and with it the pleasure, ceases. Hence 
the satisfaction of desire or happiness can mean 
nothing but liberation from pain or want. 1 To 
quote Schopenhauer again : " We feel pain, but 
not painlessness ; we feel care, but not freedom from 
care ; fear, but not security. We feel the wish as 
we feel hunger and thirst ; but as soon as it is ful- 
filled, it is much the same as with the agreeable 
morsel, which, the very moment it is swallowed, 
ceases to exist for our sensibility. We miss pain- 
fully our pleasures and joys as soon as they fail us ; 
but pains are not immediately missed even when 
they leave us, after tarrying long with us, but at 
most we remember them voluntarily by means of 
reflection. For only pain and want can be felt 
positively, and so announce themselves as something 
really present ; happiness, on the contrary, is simply 
negative. Accordingly, we do not appreciate the 
three greatest goods of life, health, youth, and free- 
dom, as long as we possess them, but only after we 
have lost them ; for these also are negations. That 
certain days of our life were happy ones, we recog- 
1 The World as Will and Idea, Vol. I, p. 376. 



OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 297 

nize first of all, after they have made room for unhappy 
ones." 1 Voltaire expresses the same thought : " Hap- 
piness is but a dream, while sorrow is a reality. I 
have been experiencing this truth for fourscore 
years. There is nothing left for me but to resign 
myself to Fate, and to acknowledge that the flies 
are born to be eaten up by the spiders, and men to 
be consumed by sorrows." 2 

Now I ask you, Is not all this gross exaggeration? 
Is not the picture which the pessimist draws a cari- 
cature rather than a faithful representation of life? 
Is not Schopenhauer's description of the human will , 
that of a spoilt child rather than that of a healthy 
man? Of course, life is not free from disappoint- 
ment. True, we desire and keep on desiring, we 
hope and hope, often even against hope, and our 
hopes extend beyond the grave. But it is not so 
painful a thing to have desires and hopes, — nay, 
what would a life be worth without desires and 
hopes and strivings and expectations? And what 
would it be without struggle and an occasional 
disappointment ? 

Life is movement, action, development ; hence there 
can be no fixed or stable goal, a cessation of desire 
and striving. We cannot imagine that we shall ever 
reach a point of rest, a stopping-place, and that we 
could ever be happy in the passive enjoyment of such 
a state of absolute rest. If life were differently con- 

1 This translation is taken from Sully's Pessimism. 

2 See Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Idea, Vol. II, pp. 659 f. 



298 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

stituted, it would be death and not life. Niir der 
verdient die Freiheit und das Leben, der tciglicli sie 
erobern muss. 

The main trouble with the pessimist is that he 
regards a permanent, stable state of happiness as the 
highest good, and that he judges life in the light of 
a means of achieving this good. Life, however, is 
not a means to an end, but an end in itself, some- 
thing desired and prized for its own sake. It is not 
like a railroad journey, a means of reaching a certain 
given destination, but rather like a ramble through 
a beautiful forest, something that is enjoyed for its 
own sake. We enjoy the muscular activity, the 
shady paths, the rippling brooks, the song of the 
birds, the chirp of the insects, the beauty and fra- 
grance of the flowers, the warm sunshine and the 
cooling shade, the blue sky overhead and the mossy 
banks underfoot. There may be hills to climb, and 
the exercise may be hard and fatiguing ; we may 
pass through brier and thorn, and tear the flesh; 
our lips may be parched with thirst, and we may feel 
the pangs of hunger. And we may suffer many 
little disappointments on the way, and become the 
victims of illusion, but the walk, taken as a whole, 
cannot be called a disappointment and illusion. So 
it is with life. Life has its lights and shadows, its 
joys and its sorrows, its victories and defeats. 

" Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; 
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; 
Thy fate is the common fate of all, 



OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 299 

Into each life some rain must fall, 
Some days must be dark and dreary." 

Sunshine and rain are both essential to growth. 
Pain is a chastener, and often more valuable as 
a developer of character than pleasure. Auch der 
Schmerz ist Crottes Bote. No strong character can be 
formed except in the school of sorrow and defeat. 
Not until you have received some sharp blows from 
the world, not until the iron has entered into your 
soul, will you become an able warrior in the ranks of 
life. " Sweet are the uses of adversity." 

And as for the negativity of happiness, the doc- 
trine is psychologically false. Pleasure is just as 
real and just as positive as pain, — indeed, even the 
absence of pain is felt as positively pleasurable. 

(3) The pessimist also attempts to prove geneti- 
cally that the pains exceed the pleasures of life 
by referring to the nature and development 
of knowledge. 1 He believes with the preacher 
that " in much wisdom is much grief : and he that 
increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." The more 
we know the unhappier we become. Civilization 
means a multiplication of needs or desires, new needs 
mean new pains and new disappointments. More- 
over, the intelligent being "looks before and after, 
and pines for what is not." The brute lives in. the 
present alone, regardless of the past and future, suf- 
fering neither remorse nor fear of death. Its igno- 
rance is its bliss. Man, on the other hand, reviews the 

1 Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Idea, Vol. I, 365 f. 



300 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

past, and suffers over again the pains that once tor- 
tured him ; he looks into the future, and foresees the 
evils awaiting him there. The fear of the coming 
pain is often more painful than the actual pain itself, 
and the horror of death is the worst pain of all. 
Again, man has an ideal self besides a physical self, 
a social me, as Professor William James calls it, his 
honor or reputation, the picture of himself in the 
hearts of others. The more complex society becomes, 
the greater our dependence upon our fellows and 
the greater the possibility of injuring the ideal self. 
Think of the pains of unsatisfied ambition, injured 
pride, unrequited love, etc., as compared with bodily 
hurts. And finally, as intelligence increases, our 
sympathies enlarge, and then we suffer not only our 
own sorrows, but those of others. We die a thou- 
sand deaths. 1 

There is undoubtedly a great deal of truth in 
these reflections, but they are, like the entire pessi- 
mistic philosophy, one-sided. It is true that as life 
unfolds, the possibilities for suffering pain increase. 
The surface of sensitivity to pain becomes larger, as 
it were. But look at the other side of the picture. 
The pleasures also grow in extent and intent. Civil- 
ization creates new needs, very true ; but it also 
creates new means of satisfying them. New needs 
mean new activities, new activities mean new 
pleasures. It is likewise true that we anticipate 
future sorrows, but do we not also look forward to 
1 See, especially, Parerga, chap, xii, §§ 154 ff. 






OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 301 

future pleasures, and do we not enjoy them in 
advance ? Is not the feeling of hope a joyful feel- 
ing ; is it not a blessing instead of a curse? Human 
beings also fear the future, but can we say that they 
hope less than they fear? Is it not the tendency 
of men to paint the future in rosy colors, and always 
to be expecting better things ? It seems so to me. 

" Hope springs eternal in the human breast." 
" Am Grabe noch pjianzt er die Hoffnung auf." 

And when it comes to looking backward, do we not 
forget the troubles we have passed through and 
linger upon the happy hours we have spent ? Our 
griefs lose their sting in retrospect ; time heals all 
wounds. We come to view our sorrows and dis- 
appointments as blessings in disguise, as stepping- 
stones to higher things. The same remarks apply 
to our ideal selves. We" gVicvc when we are for- 
gotten or not thought well of, when we are despised 
and hated ; but we likewise rejoice when we are 
loved and admired and applauded. And though 
we suffer the sorrows of others, we also enjoy their 
pleasures. Besides, it is sweet to be sympathized 
with by others ; nothing affords us greater consola- 
tion in our grief than to gaze into the tearful eyes 
of friendship ; and nothing fills our hearts with 
deeper joy than to share our good fortune with those 
we love. 

The long and short of it is that, if the growth 
of intelligence does increase our sorrows, it also 



302 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

increases our joys. In what proportion? The 
optimist claims that there is a balance in favor of 
pleasure or happiness, while the pessimist declares 
that the pain exceeds the pleasure. We cannot 
prove either side statistically, but I believe with 
healthy common sense that optimism is in the right. 
If the biological view is true, which holds that pleas- 
urable feelings go with beneficial activity, and pain- 
ful feelings with harmful action, we may claim that 
a healthy life, one adapted to its surroundings, 
yields more pleasure than pain, and that inasmuch 
as the normal healthy beings outnumber the abnor- 
mal ones, there is more happiness than sorrow in 
the world. We may also point out the fact that 
if pleasure is linked with beneficial activity, and 
pain with harmful action, then the animals feeling 
pleasure will be preserved, while the others will 
perish. The fact that a man is alive at all would, 
in a measure, indicate that he was happy, for if he 
did not get more pleasure out of life than pain, the 
chances are that he would be eliminated. The world 
belongs to those who can adapt themselves to it«and 
esjoy~4t. 

And even if it could be shown that pain is in 
excess of pleasure, this would not justify absolute 
pessimism. Perhaps this world is a vale of tears ; 
but is it necessarily so? Perhaps it is full of sorrow 
and disappointment ; but may that not be due to 
conditions which may be changed? If the pessimist 
would only spend the time and energy which he 



OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 303 

wastes in complaining and weeping, in ameliorating 
the conditions of the unfortunate, he would most 
likely soon be converted into an optimist. 

6. Volitional Pessimism. — Let us now turn to 
that form of pessimism which regards the whole 
world as morally bad, and therefore longs to be 
delivered from it. Men are knaves, or fools, or 
both. The end and aim of the average man's exist- 
ence is to keep himself alive, and he will do any- 
thing to realize this purpose. He is a cruel, unjust, 
and cowardly egoist, . whom vanity makes sociable, 
fear honest. And the only way to succeed in this 
world is to be tricky and dishonest like the rest. 
Shakespeare gives poetical expression to this moral- 
istic pessimism, as Paulsen calls it, in one of his best 
sonnets : — 

" Tired with all these, for restful death I cry — 
As, to behold desert a beggar born, 
And needy nothing trimrn'd in jollity, 
And purest faith unhappily forsworn, 
And gilded honor shamefully misplaced, 
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, 
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, 
And strength by limping sway disabled, 
And art made tongue-tied by authority, 
And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill, 
And simple truth miscalled simplicity, 
And captive Good attending Captain 111.'* 

And the broken-hearted King Lear thus moralizes 
upon the injustice of the world : — 

" Through tattered clothes small vices do appear, 
Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, 



304 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; 
Arm it in rags, the pigmy's sword doth pierce it." 

The good are not appreciated, — indeed, they are 
persecuted by the malicious, envious common herd, 
who hate virtue because it makes their insignificance 
and meanness all the more contemptible. 

Now is the world really as black as all that? 
There is undoubtedly much truth in what the 
accusers of mankind say ; but is humanity so abso- 
lutely rotten as they rhetorically declaim? How 
can it be proved? Either inductively, that is, by 
appealing to the facts ; or deductively, by showing 
that man is bound to be bad by the very nature of 
things. 

(1) Are there more bad men in the world than 
good ones ? Before we can undertake to answer this 
question, we must have some criterion by which to 
measure the moral value of men and times. How 
must they act in order to be called good? What 
standard shall we apply to them. Much depends 
upon the answer given to this question. If you 
regard as the standard of morality perfect knowl- 
edge, or perfect holiness, or perfect anything, the 
verdict must turn out against the human race. If 
you demand an absolute suppression of egoistic feel- 
ings, the verdict will be unfavorable. If you 
demand that man absolutely negate his will, that he 
seek only the pleasures arising from artistic or reli- 
gious or scientific contemplation, or that he think of 
nothing but heaven all the time, that he live in rags 



OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 305 

in order that others may be clad in purple, then, of 
course, this world will seem mean and wretched 
to you. But if you measure humanity by a more 
human standard, by an ideal to which the race can 
aspire, the case is not so hopeless. Let us call such 
acts good as tend to make for physical and spiritual, 
individual and social, upliftment ; let us call those 
men good who aim to realize this ideal, who care for 
themselves and others, who are struggling for their 
own and others' advancement. Now if this be our 
measuring-rod, is humankind so dreadfully wicked? 
Are men as grossly egoistic as the pessimist would 
have us believe ? Are they as cruel, vindictive, dis- 
honest, unjust, treacherous, false, envious, malicious, 
as their accuser paints them ? 

Well, here again, we must say we have not counted 
the good and the bad ; we have no statistics on the 
point. It is true, there are evil-minded and evil- 
doing persons in the world, and we cannot shut our 
eyes to the fact that we are far from being perfect. 
There are many wrongs to which we may point. It 
is true, there is much corruption in politics. The 
people are often led around by the noses by adroit 
rascals who are seeking their own personal gain at 
the expense of the community and in the name of 
patriotism, that much-abused word. Parties are too 
frequently willing to damage the country which they 
are pretending to serve, merely for the sake of injur- 
ing the opposing party, which is supposed to bear 
the entire responsibility. The influential boss can 



306 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

often control legislation, as can the millionaire and 
the rich corporation. " Plate sin with gold, and the 
strong lance of justice hurtless breaks." And good 
men meet with defeat in the struggle for existence, or, 
at any rate, are regarded by the world as failures, as 
unpractical dreamers, whom nobody minds, while 
incense is burned at the altars of unscrupulous vil- 
lains, charlatans, and fools whose purses are as fat 
as their hearts are empty. 

But is that the whole story ? Are there not many 
good men in the world ? Are there not many who 
are fighting on the side of truth and justice, many 
who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their fel- 
lows ? Is it really true that dishonesty and trickery 
are the conditions of success, that a man cannot 
thrive unless he be a knave ? It seems, the very fact 
that we pay so much attention to the successful ras- 
cals shows that we are surprised at their success, that 
it is unusual for thieves and liars to win the battle 
of life. If it were the rule the world over for false- 
hood and sham to lead to health and wealth, should 
we be so shocked and chagrined thereby? The 
moral heroes and the moral villains stand out in 
bold relief as the observed of all observers, while the 
great mass of men who are neither angels nor devils 
pass by unnoticed. 

(2) Nor can we prove that the world and its inhab- 
itants must of necessity be bad. Is man an original 
sinner ? Is sin hereditary with him, as Saint Augus- 
tine and Schopenhauer and many others would hold? 



OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 307 

According to Schopenhauer man is a crass egoist by 
nature, and egoism is bad, hence no good can come 
out of him. But man is not a crass egoist. Scho- 
penhauer himself believes that we can free ourselves 
from our wicked wills, that we can negate the will, 
suppress our egoistic strivings, and lose ourselves in 
the contemplation of the objects of art, science, and 
religion ; hence we cannot be so bad after all. And 
ihose who believe in the total depravity of man are 
likewise optimistic enough to believe that there is 
some way out of the difficulty, either through Christ 
or the groundless grace of God, so unwilling are 
they to concede the necessary loss of a single human 
soul. 

It is much easier to show on a 'priori grounds that 
man is not radically bad than the opposite. Man is 
both egoistic and altruistic ; he acts for his own 
good and that of others. Humanity could not exist 
and realize the ideals which have been realized if 
men were absolutely bad. The fact of their living 
together at all proves that obedience to the laws of 
morality is the rule and not the exception. If men 
were as immoral as the pessimist paints them, society 
would go to pieces. The fact that it takes unusually 
adroit men to succeed in spite of their dishonesty 
shows how hard it is to break the moral law and 
thrive. " The wages of sin is death." This is as 
profound a truth as was ever uttered. 

But even if it were true, even if the world were a 
hotbed of corruption, why should we despair ? Why 



308 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

should we not make ourselves and the world better ? 
Let us strive to improve it, and not sit idly by, weep- 
ing and moaning over its wickedness. Let us strike 
at wrong wherever it shows its head, let us enroll 
ourselves in the ranks of virtue and fight the great 
battle of the right against the wrong. The best way 
to grow strong in righteousness is to combat evil. 
And we can make no better beginning than by first 
improving ourselves. " Thou hypocrite, cast out first 
the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou 
see clearly to pull out the mote that is in thy brother's 
eye." 

(3) The attempt is also made to prove pessimism 
genetically by comparing the present with the past. 
Just as sorrow is increasing, vice is increasing ; men 
are growing worse and worse ; the times are out of 
joint. The world is degenerating. There was a 
time, says Rousseau, when things were better. In 
his primitive days, man lived peacefully, virtuously, 
and happily, but with the progress of civilization 
and culture all this has been changed. We are 
growing away from the sweet simplicity of the past, 
and our demands on life and the values we put upon 
things are changing. Social inequalities are multi- 
plying, carrying in their train all the vices of an 
artificial mode of existence. We esteem knowledge, 
not for itself, but simply as we value diamonds and 
precious jewels, because it gives to its possessors 
something not enjoyed by others. Wealth and cul- 
ture are the badges of classes, and valued merely as 






OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 309 

such. The rich and cultured are becoming more 
lordly, haughty, supercilious, and unsympathetic, 
while the poor and ignorant are made more servile, 
cowardly, deceitful, and base by the artificial condi- 
tions of the times. 

It is, however, not true that the world is getting 
worse, that the original state was a blissful moral 
state. This conception of a better past is common 
to many religions and peoples. The Greeks believed 
in a golden age, the Jews in Paradise. It is charac- 
teristic of old age to live in and glorify the past, 
largely perhaps because it is past. The evils of the 
present are distinctly before us ; the evils of the past 
we are apt to forget, and to think only of its bright 
sides. Besides, old age has formed its habits, the 
habits of the past, and we all know how hard it is to 
accept new ways of thinking, feeling, and willing; 
You can't teach an old dog new tricks, as the saying 
is. The old man often feels out of place in the world 
with its new habits, and so comes to regard everything 
in it as wrong. He makes the same objections to 
the present which his parents made to his past, 
which was their present. 

But is the present really worse than the past? 
Here again everything depends upon our conception 
of the better and the worse. If you do not believe 
in the progress of political and religious freedom, you 
will condemn the present. If you hate the rabble 
so called, and find that the plain man of the people 
is playing a greater role in the world than you are 



310 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

willing he should play, you will find fault with the 
times. If you regard civilization with its culture 
and luxury as an absolute evil, you will hate the 
present. If you believe that men ought to live the 
lives of mediaeval ascetics, that they should despise 
literature, science, and art, then you cannot contem- 
plate our age with pleasure. 

But if you believe with me that the ideal of man- 
kind is to develop the physical and spiritual powers 
of the race in harmony with each other and in adap- 
tation to the surroundings, to make men more rational 
and sympathetic, to give them control over them- 
selves and nature, to bring the blessings of civilization 
within the reach of the humblest and most neglected, 
then you will have to admit that our times are better 
than the past. If civilization is better than sav- 
agery, then the present is better than the past. If a 
wider and deeper sympathy with living beings, jus- 
tice, and truth, are better than hatred, cruelty, preju- 
dice, and injustice, then civilization is better than 
savagery. The good old times solved their problems 
in their way; let us solve ours in our way. Let us 
be thankful that the past is gone, and look with hope 
to a brighter and better future. 1 

1 See the excellent chapter on ' ' The Moral Progress of the 
Race," in Williams, Beview of Evolutional Ethics, pp. 466 ff. 



CHAPTER XI 

CHARACTER AND FREEDOM i 

1. Virtues and Vices. — We have found that such 
acts are right as tend to promote welfare, and that 
such are wrong as tend to do the reverse. We have 
also found that acts are the outward expressions of 
inner psychical states, that they are prompted by 
something on the inner side. Among these inner 
states we mentioned the so-called egoistic and altru- 
istic impulses and feelings, and the so-called moral 
sentiments. Morality, therefore, or moral conduct, 
springs from the human heart ; it represents the 
will of humanity. Moral conduct, like all conduct, 
is the outward expression of the human will. Men 
act morally or for the welfare of themselves and 
others because they desire or will that welfare. 

1 Green, Prolegomena, Bk. I, chap, iii, Bk. II, chap, i ; Stephen, 
The Science of Ethics, pp. 264-294 ; Miinsterberg, Die Willens- 
handlnng; Fouillee, La liberie et determinisme ; Sigwart, Der 
Begriff des Wollens und sein Verhdltniss zum Begriff der Cau- 
salitat; Wundt, Ethics, Part III, chap, i, 1, 2. 3 ; Paulsen, Ethics, 
Bk. H, chap, ix ; Thilly, " The Freedom of the Will," Philosophical 
Review, Vol. Ill, pp. 385-411; Hyslop, Elements, chaps, iv, v; 
Mackenzie, Manual, chap, viii ; Seth, Ethical Principles, Part III, 
chap. i. For history of the freewill question, see Penzig, Arthur 
Schopenhauer und die menschliche Willensfreiheit ; A. Alexander, 
Theories of the Will. 

311 



312 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

Humanity as a whole desires its own preservation 
and advancement, and therefore performs acts which 
tend to realize the desired end. 

We call such acts as tend to promote welfare vir- 
tuous, their opposites vicious. We call the will that 
tends to express itself in virtuous acts a good or virtu- 
ous will, its opposite vicious. Acts which ought to 
be done we call duties, persons who do them dutiful. 

Morality is based upon impulses. Because men 
desire the preservation of themselves and others 
they are moral. But — and this is an important 
point — an impulse as such is not necessarily a vir- 
tue, though it may be fashioned into one. The im- 
pulse to preserve your life is not necessarily a virtue. 
Your desire to preserve yourself may be so irra- 
tional as to destroy you. Your desire for food may 
be so strong as to cause your ruin. Nor is the sym- 
pathetic impulse necessarily a virtue. Your sympa- 
thy for a person may be so irrational as to injure 
both you and the person for whom you feel it. 

Virtues are rational impulses, i.e., impulses or 
volitions fashioned in such a manner as to realize 
moral ends. They are impulses guided by reason, 
controlled by ideas. Impulses are formed or fash- 
ioned or educated by experience with natural and 
social surroundings. Exaggerated impulses are cor- 
rected and weak ones strengthened. Impulses may 
also be reenforced or defeated by the aid of the moral 
sentiments or the conscience. An extreme egoistic 
impulse may be held in check by the feeling of obli- 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 313 

gation ; and a weak altruistic impulse intensified in 
the same way. A person who is exceedingly selfish 
may be kept within proper bounds by his conscience, 
by the feeling that he ought not to indulge his 
desire to advance himself at the expense of others ; 
while an individual lacking altruism may be urged 
by his conscience to care for others. Or the feeling 
of obligation may influence a man who cares little 
for self -advancement to preserve and develop his 
life, and cause one who is too altruistically inclined 
to modify his altruism. 1 

2. Character. — Impulses are fashioned into fixed 
habits of action, which cannot easily be changed, and 
a character is formed. " A character," as J. S. Mill 
says, "is a completely fashioned will," and by will 
here is meant " an aggregate of tendencies to act in 
a firm and prompt and definite way upon the princi- 
pal emergencies of life." 2 We may, therefore, say 
that a character is the combined product of one's 
natural tendencies or impulses, and the environment 
acting upon them. In other words, a man's char- 
acter depends upon his will or nature or disposition, 
and the influences exerted upon it by the outside 
world of living and lifeless things. This implies : 
(1) that the individual starts out with a certain 
stock in trade, certain impulses or tendencies, or, to 
state it physiologically, a peculiarly constituted brain 
and nervous system ; (2) that these tendencies or 

1 See Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. Ill, chap. i. 

2 See James, Psychology, Vol. I, chap. iv. 



314 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

impulses, this brain and nervous system, may be 
influenced and modified, hence that a person may 
be educated into morality ; (3) that what a man 
will be, must depend, to some extent, upon what he 
is, that is, upon his native disposition. 

A man may have been endowed by nature with 
bountiful intellectual and physical gifts, but the 
absence of favorable conditions or the presence of 
unfavorable ones may hinder these capacities from 
being realized. A person who might have become 
an athlete, had he been born in a certain climate 
and had he received the proper training, may turn 
out to be physically deficient. So, too, a man who 
might have become a great artist may find his 
natural powers weakening from lack of exercise. 

In order, then, to form a moral character, we need 
a natural capacity for goodness, so to speak, and 
favorable life conditions. We have just seen that 
the absence of the latter is bound to show its effects. 
But the former also, the native endowment, is 
needed. A man with a dwarfed brain can never 
become an intellectual prodigy. But there are many 
gradations from a diseased brain and organism to a 
perfectly healthy and well-developed . system, and 
consequently many gradations in physical excellence. 
Some persons seem to be utterly devoid of moral 
impulses, and consequently bound to turn out bad. 
Some criminals are criminals by nature. They are 
what has been called by alienists morally insane. 
Such individuals are usually without the impulses 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 315 

upon which morality is based. " Modern reforma- 
tories have testified to the possibility of the redemp- 
tion of a large number of criminals from their evil 
life, but they have shown, nevertheless, that there is 
a lust of cupidity, a love of meanness, and an animal- 
ity from which rescue is almost if not quite impossi- 
ble. The reaction of men whose past opportunities 
have been about equal, upon effort for their reform, 
exhibits also very different degrees of readiness. 
The testimony of reformatories for the young is 
especially of worth on this point ; and I once heard 
Mrs. Mary Livermore describe the faces of many of 
the children to be found in a certain institution of 
this sort as bearing fearful witness to the fact that 
they had been * mortgaged to the devil before they 
were born.' I remember a number of cases cited by 
the matron of a certain orphan asylum, showing that 
children taken from their home at too early an age 
to have learned the sins of their parents by imitation 
may yet repeat those sins. Out of three children of 
the same parents, the one of whom was a drunkard 
and prostitute, the other a thief, one developed, at a 
very early age, a tendency to dishonesty, another an 
extreme morbid eroticism, and the third child ap- 
peared to have escaped the evil inheritance ; but he 
was still very young when I last heard of him." 1 
"Whoever is destitute of moral feeling is, to that 
extent, a defective being ; he marks the beginning 
of race-degeneracy ; and if propitious influence do 
1 Williams, Evolutional Ethics, Part II, pp. 405 f. 



316 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

not chance to check or to neutralize the morbid 
tendency, his children will exhibit a further degree 
of degeneracy, and be actual morbid varieties. 
Whether the particular outcome of the morbid strain 
shall be vice, or madness, or crime, will depend much 
on the circumstances of life." " When we make a 
scientific study of the fundamental meaning of those 
deviations from the sound type which issue in insan- 
ity and crime, by searching inquiry into the laws of 
their genesis, it appears that these forms of human 
degeneracy do not lie so far asunder as they are com- 
monly supposed to do. Moreover, theory is here 
confirmed by observation ; for it has been pointed 
out by those who have made criminals their study 
that they oftentimes spring from families in which 
insanity, epilepsy, or some allied neurosis exists, that 
many of them are weak-minded, epileptic, or actu- 
ally insane, and that they are apt to die from dis- 
eases of the nervous system and from tubercular 
diseases." 1 

3. The Freedom of the Will. — The preceding 
statements naturally suggest the problem of the free- 
dom of the will, which we shall now consider. Is 
the will free or is it determined? Before we can 
answer this question we must understand the terms 
involved in our discussion. 

1 Maudsley, Pathology of Mind, pp. 102 ff., quoted by Williams, 
loc. cit. See also Lonibroso, IJhomme criminel; Krafft-Ebing, 
Psychiatrie, Vol. II, p. 65 ; Striimpell, Pedagogische Pathologie ; 
Williams, Evolutional Ethics, pp. 402 ff.; Paulsen, Ethics, pp. 373 
ff., 475 ft 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 317 

Let us see. By the will we may mean the atti- 
tude of the ego toward its ideas, i.e., the element of 
decision, the fiat or veto, will in the narrow sense of 
the term. 1 Or by will we may mean the so-called 
impulsiveness of consciousness, that is, the tendency 
of consciousness to act, the so-called self-determina- 
tion of the soul. 2 Thus in attention there is psychic 
energy. Whether I pay attention to a loud noise or 
force my attention upon my lesson, I am always put- 
ting forth mental energy, I am willing in the broader 
sense of the term. This psychic energy or conation 
is present in all states of consciousness ; every state 
of consciousness is impulsive or energetic. 

By freedom we may mean unhindered by an exter- 
nal force. A nation or individual is free when not 
hindered by an outer force ; I am free when I can 
do what I please, that is, when my acts are the 
expression of my consciousness, the outflow of my 
own will, not the expression of some consciousness 
outside of mine. This is what the average man 
means by freedom when he applies the term to 
human beings. Man is free to do what he pleases, 
means that he is not hindered in his willing. In 
this sense there can be no doubt of the possibility of 
man's freedom. I am free to get up or sit down, 
free to teach or not to teach, as I please. If I will 
to get up, I can get up ; if I will to sit down I am 
free to do that. 

1 See chap. viii, § 3 (4) . 

2 See chap, viii, § 3 (4), p. 215, note 2. 



318 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

But by freedom I may mean something else. I 
may mean by free something uncaused, undeter- 
mined, having no necessary antecedents, self-caused, 
causa sui, an uncaused cause. God, we say, is un- 
caused, not caused by something outside of Himself, 
causa sui. 

If we apply this last conception to the will in 
the narrow sense of the term, free will means: 
The will is uncaused, undetermined by antecedents. 
I will that A be done instead of B, I give my con- 
sent, or assent, to A without being determined 
thereto by anything outside of me or inside of me. 
I, as will, decide for or against an act absolutely, 
without being influenced to do so. Not only, then, 
can I do as I please, but I can please as I please. 

If we employ the term will in the broader sense, 
and accept the second interpretation of freedom, 
free will means : The energy of the soul, the 
activity or impulsiveness of consciousness, is an 
uncaused or indeterminate factor, dependent upon 
nothing. We can put forth any amount of effort 
of attention or psychic force at any time. The 
amount of effort put forth depends upon no antece- 
dents whatever ; it is not determined by anything ; 
it is free or indeterminate. 1 

In short, the libertarian view holds that the will, 
in whatever sense we take it, is not subject to the 

1 See James, Psychology, Vol. II, chap, xxvi ; also "The Di- 
lemma of Determinism, 1 ' in The Will to Believe ; Ladd, Psychology, 
Descriptive and Explanatory, chap. xxvi. 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 319 

law of causality ; it is a cause without being an 
effect. Freedom here means, as Kant and Scho- 
penhauer put it, the faculty of beginning a causal 
series. A man is free when he has the power to 
begin a causal series without being in any Way 
determined thereto. Psychical activity is free when 
it acts without cause, when it depends upon no ante- 
cedent event. I will to perform a certain act; noth- 
ing has determined me to will as I did ; under the 
same conditions I could have willed otherwise. 
However this view may be modified, freedom essen- 
tially means a causeless will. 

The deterministic view opposes this conception, 
and holds that there is no such thing as an uncaused 
process, either in the ph} T sical or psychical sphere ; 
that every phenomenon or occurrence, be it a move- 
ment or a thought, a feeling or an act of will, is 
caused, not an independent factor, but dependent 
upon something else. 

4. Determinism. — Which of these two views is 
correct? Is the will caused or uncaused? Let us 
see. By a cause we mean the antecedent or con- 
comitant, or the group of antecedents and concomi- 
tants, without which the phenomenon cannot appear. 
The scientist explains things by revealing their 
invariable antecedents or causes, by showing that 
things act uniformly under the same conditions. 
It is a postulate of science that all phenomena in 
the universe are subject to law in the sense that 
they are caused, that there is a reason for their 



320 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

being and acting so and not otherwise. Now can 
we apply the same formula to human willing, or, let 
us say, making the statement as broad as possible, 
to the human mind as a whole? Has the human 
mind any such antecedents or concomitants, or is it 
independent of them? Is there any reason why the 
mind should think, feel, and will as it does ? Is it 
dependent upon anything for thinking, feeling, and 
willing in this way ? 

Science will naturally answer the question in 
the affirmative. Its ideal is to explain the world, 
and explanation is impossible unless things happen 
according to law, unless there is uniformity in 
action. Even where we are unable to find the 
invariable antecedents or causes, we imagine them 
to be present, though we may regard their discovery 
as practically impossible. 

Now the scientific investigation of mind seems 
to show uniformity of action. Under the same 
circumstances the same states occur; the same an- 
tecedents seem to be followed by the same conse- 
quents. In the first place, we may say that in order 
to have human consciousness we must be born with 
human minds, with human capacities for sensation, 
ideation, feeling, and willing. Plrysiologically speak- 
ing, we must have a human brain, human sense- 
organs, a human body. In a certain sense, all 
human beings are alike dependent upon the nature 
of the consciousness which they inherit from the 
race. What a being is going to think, feel, and 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 321 

will in this world depends, to some extent, upon 
the mental and physical stock in trade with which 
he begins life. 

Not only, however, does man inherit the general 
characteristics of the race ; he also inherits specific 
qualities from his ancestors. Just as a man may 
inherit a weak or a vigorous brain and more or less 
perfect sense-organs, so he may receive from his 
nation or his ancestors a capacity for thinking, feel- 
ing, and willing in a particular way. In short, if we 
embrace all mental tendencies or capacities or func- 
tions under one term, character, we may say that every 
individual has a character of his own, and that this 
character is dependent upon the entire past. As 
Tyndall says : " It is generally admitted that the 
man of to-day is the child and product of incalcu- 
lable antecedent times. His physical and intellectual 
textures have been woven for him during his passage 
through phases of history and forms of existence 
which lead the mind back to an abysmal past." 1 

We may say that the way in which the world 
affects an individual must depend largely upon his 
character. Physiologically stated, the impression 
made by an external stimulus upon a human brain 
will depend largely upon the nature of the entire 
organism affected, which does not merely receive 
excitations, but transforms them according to its 
nature. This character, this brain, is the heir of 
all the ages, an epitome of the past. It is what it 
1 " Science and Man," Fortnightly Review, 1877, p. 594. 

T 



322 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

is because many other things have been what they 
were. In this sense we may say that it is deter- 
mined. I have a human body and not an animal's, 
because I am the child of human parents ; I have a 
particular human body because I am the child of a 
particular race, of a particular nation, a particular 
family. Similarly I may say that I have a human 
mind, a human will, a particular human mind and a 
particular will, because I am the child of a particular 
race, nation, age, and family. 

The mind, then, is, in a certain sense, determined 
by the past. But it is likewise determined by the 
present. Just as a seed needs certain favorable 
conditions in order to grow and thrive, a character 
needs an environment suitable to its development. To 
express it physiologically, a brain needs stimuli in 
order that it may act out its nature. It will develop 
from immaturity to maturity only under the proper 
conditions. Just as a man must exercise his muscles 
properly in order to develop them, he must exercise 
his mental powers in order to develop them. 

As was said before, we must give due weight to 
both the inside and the outside, the character and its 
physical and social environment. The brain requires 
stimulation in order to act at all ; it will not develop 
without being incited to action from without. But 
it is not merely a puppet in the hands of the ex- 
ternal world ; it does not merely receive, but gives ; 
it strikes back. That is, it reacts upon stimuli 
according to its oivn nature. Similarly, the mind is 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 323 

not merely a passive thing, but an active thing ; 
character is not merely a creature, but a creator. 
The manner in which a person will think, feel, and 
act will depend not merely upon the outward cir- 
cumstances, but upon the inner. Stating the matter 
psychologically and applying it to the subject of the 
will, we may say : Whether an idea or feeling is to 
have motive power or not, depends altogether upon 
the character of the individual, which has been 
formed by a multitude of influences and conditions. 

Scientific psychology, then, is deterministic in the 
sense of claiming that states of consciousness, like 
other facts in the universe, have their invariable 
antecedents, concomitants, and consequents. Men- 
tal phenomena are inserted into the general system 
of things like all other phenomena. They are not 
isolated and independent processes without connec- 
tion with the rest of the world, but parts of an 
interrelated whole. 

5. Theological Theories. — Now that we have con- 
sidered the psychological answer to the question of 
free will and determinism, let us briefly examine the 
attitude of theology and metaphysics toward the 
problem. Theology is either deterministic or liber- 
tarian, according to the conceptions from which it 
starts out. The great thesis of Christian theology 
has always been that Christ came to save man from 
sin. Now, reasoned Augustine, if Christ came to 
save man from sin, then evidently man was not able 
to save himself, he was unable not to sin; he was 






324 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

determined to sin, and hence not free. 1 This is the 
doctrine of original sin. Other theologians make the 
same thesis their starting-point, and reach a different 
conclusion. If Christ saved man from sin, then 
evidently man was a sinner. But man cannot be a 
sinner unless he has the power of freedom to sin or 
not to sin, for sin implies freedom. Hence, if sin is 
to mean anything, man must be free. 2 

Or, the theologian may make the conception of 
God his starting-point, and reach either freedom or 
determinism. God is all-powerful, say some, and 
man wholly dependent upon Him. If man were free, 
then God could not determine him one way or the 
other, man would represent an independent entity in 
God's universe ; which would rob God of some of 
His power. No, say others, God is all-good, hence 
He cannot have determined man to sin. If man were 
determined by God to sin, then God would not be an 
all-good God ; He would be responsible for the evil 
in the world. But as He is not responsible for the 
evil, this must be the result of man's choice. Hence, 
man is not determined, but free. 

6. Metaphysical Theories. — Metaphysics, too, may 
be either deterministic or indeterministic. Material- 
ism assumes that matter is the essence or principle 
of reality, that everything in the world is matter in 
motion, and that nothing can happen without cause. 
If these premises are true, then of course mind is 

1 See also Luther and Calvin. 

2 See Pelagius and the Jesuits. 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 325 

the effect of motion, or only a different form of 
motion, and is governed or determined by the laws 
of matter. 

According to spiritualism or idealism, mind is the 
principle of reality, and everything is a manifestation 
of mind. According to monistic spiritualism, there is 
one fundamental mind or intelligence in the universe, 
of which all individual intelligences or minds are 
the manifestation. Kant calls this principle the 
intelligible or noumenal world, the thing-in-itself or 
freedom ; Fichte calls it the practical ego ; Hegel 
calls it the universal reason ; Schopenhauer calls it 
the will. The principle itself is regarded as free, 
uncaused, self-caused, or self-originative. But if 
man's mind is a manifestation of this principle, then 
man's mind depends upon it, cannot be without it, 
must act in accordance with its nature, is determined 
by it. Kant and Schopenhauer both hold that man's 
empirical character, that is, his phenomenal character, 
his character as we know it, is determined by the 
intelligible character, the noumenal character, the 
principle of which it is the manifestation. 1 

According to pluralistic or individualistic spirit- 
ualism, there are many minds or principles. Duns 
Scotus, the schoolman, regards every human being 
as an individualistic principle, absolutely free to 
choose and to act, not bound to choose or act in any 
particular way. If this standpoint is strictly adhered 
to, — and it is the only possible standpoint for those 
1 See also Green, op. cit. 



326 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

who accept the freedom of indifference, — ■ then each 
individual is practically a creator. Leibniz, too, is a 
pluralist, but his pluralism differs somewhat from 
the pluralism .of Duns Scotus. The world consists 
of monads or metaphysical points, or spiritual sub- 
stances, each one of which is free in the sense of not 
being determined from without, that is, by any power 
outside of itself. Each spirit is, as Leibniz puts it, 
"a little divinity in its own department." But 
since whatever happens in the monad happens in 
accordance with its own nature, the monad is really 
determined by its own nature. I must think, feel, 
and act as I do because it is my nature or character 
so to think, feel, and act. 

If we reject both spiritualism and materialism, and 
regard mental and physical processes as two sides of 
an underlying principle which is neither mind nor 
matter, but the cause of both, then both mind and 
matter are determined by this principle, and are not 
free. The principle itself, however, may be free or 
uncaused or self-originating. 

According to dualism we have two principles, 
mind and matter, each one differing in essence from 
the other. Each person is a corporeal and spiritual 
substance. Dualism may be either deterministic or 
indeterministic, according as it is claimed that the 
mental realm is governed by law or not. Some 
thinkers have reasoned that, since mind and matter 
go together or run parallel with each other, and since 
matter is governed by law, mind must be governed 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 327 

by law. Others have denied this assumption and 
have insisted that mind at least, or the human will, 
is free and uncaused. 1 

7. Reconciliation of Freedom and Determinism. — 
Now what shall be our conclusion on this point ? In 
a certain sense we may accept a kind of freedom. 
All systems assume that the principle of being, 
whether it be matter or mind, or both, or neither, 
has neither beginning nor end, has nothing outside of 
itself upon which it depends, and that it is therefore 
uncaused or unexplainable. We must also .maintain 
that the principle is determined in the sense that it 
shows uniformity of action, or is governed by law. 
This does not mean, however, that it is forced or 
compelled or coerced or pushed into action, but that 
it acts with regularity and uniformity. 2 Even the 
atom of materialism is free in the sense of not being 
coerced by anything outside of itself ; it is deter- 
mined in that it does not act capriciously and con- 
trary to law, but uniformly and lawfully. And the 
human mind or will may be said to possess similar 
characteristics. The will is determined in the sense 
that it has uniform antecedents, that it does not act 
capriciously and without reason, but according to 
law. The will is free in the sense that it is not 
coerced by anything outside of itself. " If the nature 
of causality," as Paulsen aptly says, "consisted of 

1 For example, Descartes. 

2 See Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy, English translation, 
pp. 318 ff. 



328 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

an external necessity which excludes inner necessity, 
they would be right who rebel against its application 
to the mental sphere. Only in that case they ought 
to go a step farther and maintain that the causal law 
is invalid not only for the will, but for the entire 
soul-life. But if we define the notion of causality 
correctly, if we mean by it what Hume and Leibniz 
meant by it, that is, the regular harmony between 
the changes of many elements, then it is plain that it 
prevails in the mental world no less than in nature. 
It may be more difficult to detect uniformity in the 
former case or to reduce it to elementary laws than 
in the latter. Still it is evident that such uniformity 
exists. Isolated or lawless elements exist in neither 
sphere ; each element is definitely related to antece- 
dent, simultaneous, and succeeding elements. We 
can hardly reduce these relations to mathematical 
formulae anywhere ; but their existence is perfectly 
plain everywhere. Everybody tacitly assumes that 
under wholly identical inner and outer circumstances 
the same will invariably ensue ; the same idea, the 
same emotion, and the same volition will follow 
the same stimulus. Freedom by no means conflicts 
with causality properly understood ; freedom is not 
exemption from law. Surely ethics has no interest 
in a freedom of inner life that is equivalent to law- 
lessness and incoherency. On the contrary, the occur- 
rence of absolutely disconnected elements, isolated 
volitions standing in no causal connection with the 
past and future, would mean derangement of the 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 320 

will, nay, the complete destruction of psychical exist- 
ence. If there were no determination whatever of 
the consequent by the antecedent, then, of course, 
there could be no such thing as exercise and experi- 
ence, there could be no efficacy in principles and 
resolutions, in education and public institutions." 1 

80 Criticism of Indeterminism. — But we cannot 
maintain that the will is free in the Scotian sense. 2 

(1) Wherever in the world we have a phenom- 
enon we seek for its cause in some antecedent phe- 
nomenon or sum of phenomena. If we acknowledge 
the application of the causal law to the events of 
physical nature, and deny its validity in the men- 
tal sphere, we present an exception to the uniformity 
of nature . And as Bain says: "Where there is no 
uniformity, there is clearly no rational guidance, no 
prudential foresight." Every act, be it ever so 
insignificant, has its antecedent cause. I can sit 
down or get up as I please, but whether I please or 
not depends upon conditions which may be apparent 
or concealed. James holds in his article on " The 
Dilemma of Determinism " s that the world would be 
no less rational if actions like the bending into one 
street rather than into another were left to absolute 
volition. However, such a slight deviation from 
the law would be, as far as the principle is con- 

1 Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy, p. 221. See also his 
Ethics, p. 460 note. 

2 See § 6. Parts of what follows are taken from my article in 
the Philosophical Review, referred to on page 311 note. 

3 The Will to Believe. 



330 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

cerned, as great a miracle as though the planet Ju- 
piter should sway from its path. It would make the 
entire universe irrational. In the words of Riehl : 
" However infinitely small the difference between 
such a world and the real one might appear to the 
fancy, for the understanding an infinitely small 
deviation from the law of determination of occur- 
rences, from the general law of causality, would still 
remain an infinitely great miracle. There would 
arise out of the ability to perform apparently insig- 
nificant acts with absolute freedom, the ability to 
pervert the entire order of nature in continually 
increasing extents. The consequences of a single 
element of irrationality, an exception to the law of 
causation, could not but make the whole of nature 
irrational, just as a very little amount of ferment is 
able to produce fermentation in an entire organic 
mass. Nature could not exist alongside of an unde- 
termined power of freedom." 1 

(2) In order to escape these difficulties many 
devices are resorted to. We must think in terms of 
causality ; true. But, nevertheless, the will is free. 
In order to make these two contradictions agree, 
causality is simply interpreted to mean freedom or 
non-causality. In other words, a special theory of 
causality is often manufactured to meet the require- 
ments of the libertarian doctrine. Dr. Ward 2 is 
guilty of such a fabricated scheme of harmonizing 

i Riehl, Kriticismus, Vol. IE, Part II, p. 243. 

2 Dublin Review, July, 1874. 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 331 

opposites. He will not grant that " free " and " un- 
caused" are synonyms. There are two kinds of cau- 
sation ; in the one case it means a law of uniform 
phenomenal sequence. By this kind of causation 
the physical world is ruled, the important exception 
being miracles. But there is also such a thing as 
originative causation. An intelligent substance, for 
example, acts as an originative cause. Such a sub- 
stance is the human soul. Dr. Ward bases his in- 
terpretation of the causal law on the hypothesis of 
freedom, which is the very thing to be proved. You 
say, he exclaims, there is no such a thing as an origi- 
native cause ? Look at the human will. You have 
anti-impulsive will-acts due to the soul's power of 
absolute choice. You say, he continues, that free 
will violates the causal principle ? Not at all, for 
what does causation signify but originative cause ? 
— It is evident we have here an excellent example 
of the circulus vitiosus. 

Martineau J may be accused of the same vicious 
reasoning. The will, he says, is a cause, i.e., " it is 
something which terminates the balance of possibili- 
ties in favor of this phenomenon rather than that." 
This notion he applies to the universe, then back 
again to the will. He wants to show that the idea 
of causality applied does not make for determinism, 
but for freedom ; he begins by assuming that cau- 
sality equals freedom. His false reasoning is very 
apparent. Determinists say, according to him, 
1 Study of Beligion, Vol. II, Bk. Ill, pp. 196-324. 



332 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

every action must have a cause, the will must be 
controlled by motives, for nothing can be without a 
cause. The will cannot be free because of this 
causal principle. Yes, answers Martineau, if cau- 
sality means that different effects must have differ- 
ent causes, then the will is not free. But it is 
not true that different effects must have different 
causes. The will is not determined, because differ- 
ent effects need not have different causes. They 
need not have different causes, because in the will 
we have an example of a cause which has the 
power to determine an alternative, i.e., a free cause. 
This amounts to saying, The will is free because it is 
free. 

(3) We observe, then, that a free will in this 
sense is wholly inconceivable ; it violates the law 
of causality. The psychological investigation has 
already shown that it contradicts the facts. We 
must now also insist that, if the will is free, it is 
utterly useless to attempt to determine it. And yet 
everybody acts on the conviction that this may be 
done. If nothing can determine it, what is the use 
of education, of laws, of arguments, of entreaties, of 
moral suasion, of punishment, and all those means 
employed to determine conduct ? How can an 
utterly groundless willing be in any way held re- 
sponsible ? The voluntary activity has been initi- 
ated without being caused. Hence nothing can be 
done to affect it. Like a deus ex machina, the free 
will enters upon the scene of action, and in the same 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 833 

mysterious manner disappears. How can it be ap- 
proached, this guilty party ? Why offer it motives 
if these have no influence ? Besides, if the will does 
not come under the causal law, why speak of its de- 
velopment during the various periods of race and 
individual life ? If it cannot be determined, how 
explain the influences of disease and stimulants on 
it ? Why should it ever degenerate ? What be- 
comes of it in sleep ? Where is it in the hypnotized 
state ? 

What would morality be to a person absolutely 
free ? " Indeterminism," says Riehl, " would sub- 
ject our moral life to contingency." The free will 
cannot be impelled by reason to act ; it can in no 
way be determined to adopt the more reasonable 
course, but acts groundlessly. Nor can conscience 
be of avail, nor remorse, nor any other ethical feel- 
ing. A person* acting without cause would be 
utterly unreliable ; in fact, the ideal free man's 
actions would resemble those of the lunatic. To 
desire such freedom would, indeed, as Leibniz 
exclaims, be to desire to be a fool. Or, in Schel- 
ling's words : " To be able to decide for A and non- 
A without any motives whatsoever, would, in truth, 
simply be a prerogative to act in an altogether irra- 
tional manner." 

I also fail to see in what respect the cause of liber- 
tarianism is helped by granting that the will cannot 
act without motives, but that it is, in some cases, 
able to choose one motive to the exclusion of the 



334 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

other, and that, too, without cause. The same fal- 
lacy obtains in the reasoning, whether you extend or 
limit this faculty of the will to begin a new causal 
series. When Martineau asserts the will to be a 
cause " which terminates the balance of possibilities 
in favor of this phenomenon rather than that," he 
maintains absolute freedom of volition, and lays him- 
self open to all the objections urged above. 

9. The Consciousness of Freedom, — There are, it 
is said, certain facts which make for free will. " I 
hold, therefore," says Sidgwick, "that against the 
formidable array of cumulative evidence offered for 
Determinism, there is but one argument of real 
force ; the immediate affirmation of consciousness in 
the moment of deliberate action." 1 

(1) Now, if it were really true that we have a 
consciousness of being free in the sense in which this 
term has been used, this feeling would have as little 
weight as a scientific proof as the feeling that the 
sun moves around the earth has for astronomy. 
Where a man accepts this " immediate intuition of 
the soul's freedom " as a proof of its actuality, he is 
simply asserting that his soul is free because he feels 
it to be free. 2 

(2) And even granting that such a feeling can 
prove anything, must we not show («) that it exists, 
and (b) what it tells us ? Libertarians claim that 
men are conscious of being free, and see herein a 
proof of their thesis. But the all-important ques- 

1 Methods of Ethics, p. 67. 2 Dr. Ward. 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 335 

tion is, whether men really say and believe them- 
selves to be free in the sense in which these philoso- 
phers claim that they are free. The libertarian is 
apt to throw into this consciousness of freedom his 
entire doctrine, thereby garbling the facts to suit his 
theory. 

It is necessary, therefore, to analyze this conscious- 
ness of freedom. Before the volition takes place 
there may be present in consciousness a feeling that 
I can do either this or that. In the moment of will- 
ing no such feeling exists, while after the act has 
been willed and executed I say to myself, I might 
have done otherwise. Now all the possibilities of 
action occur to me, my mind is in a different state, 
certain ideas and feelings that formerly exerted an 
irresistible influence are no longer present, or only 
dimly remembered. All the conditions being 
changed, I feel as though I could have acted differ- 
ently. And so I could have done, if only I had 
willed differently, and so I could have willed differ- 
ently, if only the conditions of willing had been 
different. I can do what I will to do ; I am free to 
get up or sit down, free to go home or stay here, to 
give up all my prospects in life, if only I loill to do 
so. Never does my consciousness tell me that a voli- 
tion is uncaused, that there was no reason for my 
willing as I did will, that the will is the absolute 
beginning of an occurrence, that at any moment any 
volition may arise regardless of all antecedent pro- 
cesses. Least of all does it tell me that I am the 



336 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

manifestation of an intelligible self which I feel to 
be free. 

Against those who so strongly emphasize the 
sense of freedom, we may urge the deterministic 
standpoint generally accepted in all the affairs of 
life. We regard the actions of men as necessary 
functions of their character. In all historical sci- 
ences, we invariably seek for the causes of events ; 
we analyze the characters of the actors, and show 
the influences of their times and surroundings. Our 
entire social life is based on the conviction that 
under certain conditions men will act in a certain 
way. That this is so, let the methods of educa- 
tion and government attest. 

10. Responsibility. — The feeling of responsibility 
is also urged against determinism, and accepted as a 
proof of liberty. This, however, proves nothing but 
that acts and motives depend upon character or flow 
from the will of the agent. The person regards 
every voluntary action of his as the expression of his 
personality, which, in truth, it is. The act is his, 
willed by him and acknowledged by him, the prod- 
uct of his own character. He does not regard his 
character as something outside of himself, as some- 
thing forcing him in a certain direction, pushing 
him now hither, noAV thither, but identifies himself 
with it. In fact, he is his character, and therefore 
holds himself responsible for his acts and motives. 
And because he feels himself as an agent, the acts as 
his acts, he sees no reason why this self from which 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 337 

the acts emanated should not be held responsible. 
Who else should be held responsible but the willing 
personality ? 

But if character is the necessary product of con- 
ditions, why hold any one responsible, even though 
he feel himself responsible ? If man's acts are the 
effect of causes, why punish him for what he cannot 
help ? Because punishment is a powerful determin- 
ing cause. Why should I be held responsible for 
my deeds? "The reply is," in Tyndall's words, "the 
right of society to protect itself against aggres- 
sive injurious forces, whether they be bound or 
free, forces of nature or forces of man." 1 Punish- 
ment can have a meaning only in a deterministic 
scheme of things. We can by education make a 
moral being out of man, that is, influence his char- 
acter, determine him to act for the social good. As 
Riehl expresses it epigrammatically : " Man is not 
held responsible because he is by birth a moral 
being ; he becomes a moral being because he is held 
responsible." 

11. Determinism and Practice. — There are many 
men who, while acknowledging the arguments of 
the deterministic theory to be unanswerable, yet 
reject it on practical grounds. They claim that life 
would be impossible on such an hypothesis. 

The deterministic theory is not, however, a dis- 
couraging and paralyzing doctrine. On the con- 
trary, the knowledge that we are determined must 
1 Fortnightly Bevieio, 1877, "Science and Man," p. 612. 



338 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 

determine us to avoid certain conditions, and seek 
others more favorable. Determinism does not de- 
stroy the energy of action. Fatalistic nations like 
the Mohammedans were far more energetic than 
Christian ascetics, who believed in the will's abso- 
lute freedom. Determinism is the strongest motive 
to action. If I am exceedingly desirous of fame, 
how can the knowledge that this desire depends 
upon conditions affect me ? Why should it make 
me less ambitious ? If I have been morally educa- 
ted, I shall continue to strive after certain things in 
spite of my belief in determinism. I shall go right 
on deliberating and choosing as heretofore, and 
make an effort to live an honorable, useful life. 
" Now when it is said by a fatalist," Butler writes, 
" that the whole constitution of nature, and the 
actions of men, that every thing and every mode 
and every circumstance of every thing, is necessary, 
and could not possibly have been otherwise, it is to 
be observed, that this necessity does not exclude 
deliberation, choice, preference, and acting from cer- 
tain principles and to certain ends ; because all this 
is a matter of undoubted experience, acknowledged 
by all, and what every man may, every moment, be 
conscious of." 1 "The author of nature then being 
certainly of some character or other, notwithstanding 
necessity, it is evident this necessity is as reconcil- 
able with the particular character of benevolence, 
veracity, and justice, in him, which attributes are 
1 Analogy of Religion, chap, vi, p. 153. 



CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 339 

the foundation of religion, as with any other charac- 
ter ; since we find their necessity no more hinders 
men from being benevolent than cruel ; true than 
faithless ; just than unjust, or, if the fatalist pleases, 
what we call unjust." 1 

1 Analogy of Religion, chap, vi, p. 159. 



INDEX 



n. STANDS FOR NOTE 



Absolute moralitj', 118, 145. 

Action, antecedents of, 209 ff. 

Alexander, S., 73. 

Alt ruism, 126 f. ; egoism and, 258 ff. 

Altruists, 258 n. 1. 

Anniceris, 159, 177 n.l. 

Antisthenes, on highest good, 183 f. 

Antoninus of Florence, on con- 
science, 31. 

Approval, feelings of, 82 f. 

Aristippus, 153 1'., 170. 

Aristotle, 109 n. 1, 123, 127 n. 1, 255 
n. 1 ; his definition of an end, 150 
f . ; on highest good, 184 ff. ; on 
pleasure-pain as the consequence 
of action, 240. 

Associatiouists, theory of con- 
science, 55 f . 

Atheism and teleological theory, 
150 f. 

Augustine, 30, 306. 

B. 

Bacon, 262 n. 7, 287. 

Bahnsen, 289 n. 1. 

Bain, 175, 214 n.% 230 n. 1, 233 n. 
2, 262 n. 7, 329 ; on conscience, 57 
ff. ; on motive to action, 218 ff. ; 
on pleasure-pain as consequence 
of action, 240. 

Balance of pleasures, 293. 

Barratt, 175. 

Baumanu, 214 n. 2. 

Bentham, 177, 262 n. 7; on con- 
science, 55 ; on highest good, 168 
f. ; and Mill, 172 f. 

Biology and highest good, 276 ff. 



Bonaventura, on conscience, 31. 

Bradley, 142. 

Brentano, on conscience, 41 f. 

Buivkhar.lt, 87. 

Burton, 87. 

Butler, 36 n. 1, 80, 130 n. 2, 150, 262 
n. 7 ; on conscience, 42 f . ; on de- 
terminism, 338 f. ; on highest 
good, 164 f. 

C 

Calderwood, 85 : on conscience, 34 f. 

Calvin, 324 n.l. 

Carlyle, on motives to aetion, 226 f . 

Carneri, 73. 

Categorical imperative, 61 ff., 133 
ff. 

Causality, 327 ff. ; and will, 319 ff . 

Character, 311 ff. 

Christian conception, 190 n. 1. 

Chrysostom, 29. 

Cicero, 187. 

Civilization and pessimism, 299 ff. 

Clarke, S., 80, 85 ; on conscience, 33. 

Conscience, analysis and explana- 
tion of, 74 ff . ; differences in, 87 f., 
96 ff . : empirical view of, 47 ff . ; 
evolutional view of, and morality, 
111 ff . ; genesis of, 93 ff . : and 
heredity, 70 ff. ; and inclination, 
167 ff. ; immediacy and infalli- 
bility of, 105 ff. ; innatenessof, 100 
ff . ; intuitional view of, 28 ff . ; 
criticism of intuitional view of, 
85 ff. ; as judgment, 83 ff. ; met- 
aphysical view of, 28 ff. ; myth- 
ical view, 27 f. ; as standard of 
morals, 116 ff . ; and teleological 



341 



342 



INDEX 



or utilitarian theory, 129 ff. ; 

theories of, 26 ff . 
Consciousness of freedom, 331 ff. 
Cooperation, 272 ff . 
Criminals, 314 ff. 
Criterion of morality and highest 

good, 155 ff. 
Cudworth, 85 ; on conscience, 32 f . 
Cumberland, 261 n. 1, 262 n. 7 ; on 

highest good, 193 f . 
Cynics, on highest good, 183 f. 
Cyrenaics, on highest good, 158 ff . 

D. 

D'Alembert, 262. 

D'Arcy, 63 n. 3. 

Darwin, 80, 88, 262 n. 7 ; on con- 
science, 64 ff. ; on inherited con- 
science, 102 n. 1 ; on highest good, 
195 f . ; on motives of action, 222. 

Decision of will, 212 ff. 

Democritus, 176, 270; on highest 
good, 162 f. 

Depravity, 306 f . 

Descartes, 117 n. 1, 327 n. 1. 

Determinism, 319 ff . ; and prac- 
tice, 337 ff. 

Diogenes of Sinope, 184 n. 1. 

Disapproval, feelings of, 82 f . 

Dorner, A., 200. 

Drummond, W., 295. 

Dualism and free will, 326 f. 

Duns Scotus, 117 ; on conscience, 
47 n. 1 ; on free will, 325 f. 

Duty and inclination, 107 ff. 

E. 

Effects of action, 118 ff., 134 ff., 

258 ff. ; motives and, 141 ff. 
Effort, feeling of, 216 f. 
Egoism, 126 f. ; altruism and, 258 

ff. ; criticism of, 263 ff . ; as moral 

motive, 272 ff. 
Emotional intuitionists, 36 ff . ; 

criticism of, 91 ff . 
Empirical theory of conscience, 47 

ff. ; and intuitionism reconciled, 

59 ff . 
End justifies the means, 146 ff. 



Ends or ideals, 250 ff. 

Energism, 127, 180 ff . ; historical 
summary, 203 f . 

Environment and heredity, 313 ff. 

Epictetus, 187. 

Epicurus, on highest good, 160 ff., 
176, 207. 

Ethical judgment, subject-matter 
of, 9 ff. 

Ethics, definition of, 4 ff . ; differ- 
entia of, 7 ff . ; and metaphysics, 
17 ff . ; methods of, 20 ff . ; as a 
normative science, 23 n. 3; and 
politics, 16 f . ; and psychology, 
13 ff. ; theoretical and practical, 
22 f . ; value of, 23 ff. 

Eudfemonism, 126 n. 1, 127 n. 1, 180 
ff., 184 ff. 

Evaluation, 5. 

Explanation, 2 f . 



Faust, 289. 

Fiat, 212 ff : 

Fiohte, on free will, 325 ; on moral 
motive, 269 f . 

Fowler, 175. 

Freedom, of will, 316 ff. ; conscio 
ness of, 334 ff. ; criticism of, 329 
ff. ; and determinism reconciled, 
327 ff . ; of indiffereuce, 325 f ., 
329 ff . ; and metaphysics, 324 ff . ; 
and science, 320; and theology, 
323 f. 

G. 

Genesis of conscience, 93 ff 
Gerson, 117. 

Gizycki, G. von, 73, 175. 
Golden age, 308 ff. 
Good, see Highest Good. 
Good will, 142 ff. 
Green, 63 n. 1, n. 3, 325 n. 1. 
Guyau, 72, 80, 93 n. 1, 111 n. 1; on 
pleasure-theory, 222 n. 1. 

H. 

Hamlet, 287, 289. 
Happiness and virtue, 303 ff. 



INDEX 



343 



Hartley, on conscience, 56 f . ; on 
sympathy, 202 n. 7. 

Hartmann, 289 n. 1. 

Hedonism, 126, 155 ff. ; critique of, 
205ff.; metaphysical, 247 f.; psy- 
chological fallacies of, 236 ff.; 
summary oi history of, 176 ff. 

Hedonistic psychology, 217 ff. 

Hegel, 325. 

Hegesias, 159. 

Helved us, 262; on conscience, 53. 

Herhart, 41, 83 n.3. 

Heredity, conscience and, 70 ff., 
101 ff. ; environment and, 313 ff. 

Highest good, 205 ff., 250 ff. ; biol- 
ogy and, 276 ff . ; and criterion 
of morality, 155 ff. ; and moral- 
ity, 278 ff . ; theories of, 155 ff. 

Hobbes, on conscience, 47 f. ; on 
egoism, 261 ; on highest good, 190. 

Hoffding, 73, 200, 230 n. 1, 257 n. 1, 
262 n. 7 ; on motives, 228 ; on will, 
213. 

Holbach, 53 n. 5, 262. 

Humanity, ideal of, 253 ff . 

Hume, 36 n. 1, 141 n. 1, 177,262 n. 7, 
276 ; on conscience, 39 ff . ; on ego- 
ism, 265 n. 1, 266, 267 n. 1; on 
highest good, 166 f. 

Hutcheson, 132 n. 1, 143 n. 1, 177, 
262 n. 7 ; on conscience, 36 n. 1, 
38 f . ; on highest good, 165 f . 

Huxley, 256 n. 1. 

Hypothetical imperatives, 133 ff. 

I. 

Ideal of humanity, 253 ff . 

Ideals, 250 ff. 

Ideo-motor action, 211. 

Immediacy of conscience, 105 ff. 

Impulses, 227 f., 233 f. ; physiology 
of, 233 f . ; and pleasure-pain, 
237 f . ; and virtues, 312 f . 

Impulsive acts, 211 f. 

Inclination and duty, 107 ff. 

Indeterminism, criticism of, 329 ff . 

Infallibility of conscience, 105 ff. 

Innate elements in conscience, 
100 ff. 



Instincts, 210, 224 f. ; explanations 
<»f, 131. 

Intellectual pleasures, 225 f. 

Intuitionism, 28 i'W: criticism of, 
85 ff. ; emotional, 36 ff . ; and 
empiricism reconciled, 69 ff.; per- 
ceptional, 42 ff., 85 ff. ; rational- 
istic, 28 ff. ; and teleological 
theory, 152 ff. 

J. 

James, 12, 19, 214, 233 n. 3, 254, 300, 
329; on egoism, 263 ff. ; on mo- 
tives to action, 220 ff . ; on voli- 
tion, 213 n. 1. 

Janet, 35 n. 1." 

Jesuits, 324 n. 2. 

Jhering, 73, 257, 262 n. 7 ; on high- 
est good, 198 f. 

Jodl, 230 n. 1; on motives of ac- 
tion, 229. 

Judgment in conscience, 83 ff . 

K. 

Kant, 41, 81, 86, 97, 134, 142, 145; 
on conscience, 60 ff . ; on free 
will, 319, 325 ; on highest good, 
200 ff . ; on inclination and duty, 
107 ff . ; on infallible conscience, 
105 ff. 

Keats, 288. 

Kiilpe, 230 n. 1. 247. 

L. 

La Bruyere, 262. 

Ladd, 98 n. 2, 230 n. 1, 233 n. 4, 240 

n. 3 ; on conscience, 98 n. 2 ; on 

egoism, 265 n. 2. 
Lamettrie, 53 n. 5, 262. 
La Rochefoucauld, 262. 
Lear, 303. 
Lecky, 85, 87, 279. 
Leibniz, 12 n. 1, 86 n. 1, 164 n. 3; 

on free will, 326, 333. 
Livermore, 315. 
Locke, 177 ; on conscience, 48 ff . ; 

on highest good, 163 f . 
Lotze, 214 n. 2. 
Luther, 324 n. 1. 



344 



INDEX 



M. 

Macaulay, 92. 

Mackenzie, 63 n. 3. 

Maine, 27S n.2. 

Mainlander, 289 n. 1. 

Mandeville, 53 n. 5; on egoism, 
201 f. 

Marcus Aurelius, 187. 

Marshall, 240 n.3. 

Martineau, 9, 36 n.l, 81, 85, 142, 
178 n. 1 ; on conscience, 43 ff . ; on 
free will, 331 f. 

Materialism, 324 ff. 

Memory, 243 f . 

Metaphysics, ethics and, 17 ff . ; and 
free will, 324 ff. 

Mill, James, 57 n. 1, 169 n. 4. 

Mill, J. S., 57 n. 1, 126 n. 1, 151 ft. 
1, 157 ft. 1, 177 ff., 207, 226, 262 n. 
7, 313; Bentham and, 172 f. ; on 
highest good, 169 ff. 

Moral action, 209 ff. ; moral codes, 
137 ff.; moral evaluation, 5; 
moral insanity, 3, 4 ff . ; moral 
motives, 269 ff . ; moral philoso- 
phy, 5. 

Moralistic pessimism, 303 ff. 

Morality, criterion of, 116 ff. ; cri- 
terion of, and highest good, 155 
ff . ; and ethics, 23 ff . ; and highest 
good, 278 ff. ; and prosperity, 137 
ff . ; theological view of, 117 f . 

Motives, 206 ; of action, 209 ff., 261 
ff . ; and effects, 141 ff . ; egoistic 
and altruistic, 253 ff . ; moral, 
269 ff. 

Muirhead, 63 n. 3. 

Miinsterberg, 73, 233 ft. 3. 

N. 
Neo-Platonists, on highest good, 

188 ff. 
Newman, Cardinal, 135 n. 1. 
Nichols, 242 n. 1. 
Nietzsche, 272. 

O. 

Obligation, 79 ff. 
Ontogenesis, 99. 



Optimism, 286 ff. 
Original sin, 306 f . 

P. 
Pain, as a motive, 232 ff . ; as a 
negative quantity, 296 ff. ; as a 

warning, 242 ff. 
Paley, 150, 177, 262 n. 7; on con- 
science, 54 f . ; on highest good, 
167 f. 
Paul, St., 122. 

Paulsen, 73, 115, 125 n. 1, 127 n. 1, 
143, 200, 242, 253 f., 259 ft. 3, 260, 
262 n. 7, 303, 327 f. 
Pelagius, 29, 324 n. 2. 
Perceptional intuitionists, 42 ff. 
Perfection-theory. 180 ff. 
Pessimism, 286 ff . ; and civili- 
zation, 299 ff. ; emotional, 293 ff. ; 
intellectual, 291 f . ; different 
kinds of, 290 ff . ; scientific, 289 
ff . ; subjective, 287 ff . ; volitional, 
303 ff. 
Phylogenesis, 100. 
Plato, 123; on highest good, 181 ff. 
Pleasure, as a bait, 242 ff . ; as end 
of all existence, 239 ff . ; as high- 
est good, 207 ff . ; as the moral 
end, 249; as motive, 218 ff . ; of 
race, as motive, 239. 
Pleasure-pains, as consequence of 
action, 239 ff . ; as the only feel- 
ings, 230, 237; and impulses, 
237 f . ; as motives, 212, 228 ff . ; 
physiology of, 246 f . ; and preser- 
vation, 242 ff. 
Pleasure-theory, 155 ff. 
Plotinus, 188 n. 1. 
Politics, ethics and, 16 f. 
Porter, 35 n. 1. 

Practical ethics, 285 ; and theoreti- 
cal ethics, 22 f . 
Practical philosophy, 5. 
Practice, theory and, 5 ft. 3, 22 f . 
Prayer, 214 n. 2, 233 n. 2. 
Preservation, pleasure-pain and, 

242 ff. 
Price, 35 ft. 1. 
Psychology, ethics and, 13 ff. 



INDEX 



345 



Rational intuitionists, 28 ff. 
Realization-theory, 180 ff. 
Reasoning, 244 f . 
Re'e, 73. 

Reflex acts, 209. 
Reid, 35 ».l. 
Responsibility, 336 f. 
Richl, on free will, 330, 333; on re- 
sponsibility, 337. 
Rolph, 232 n.2. 
Rousseau, 41, 308 ff. 

S. 

Sanction of morality, 129 ff., 146. 

Schelling, on free will, 333. 

Schoolmen, on conscience, 30 ff. 

Schopenhauer, 97 n. 2, 213 n. 1, 232 
n. 2, 289 n. 1, 307, 325 \ on free 
will, 319 ; on moral motive, 2(>9 f . ; 
on pessimism, 294 ff . ; on will, 215 
n.2. 

Schwarz, H.,42n. 1. 

Science, and free will, 320; func- 
tion of, 1 ff . ; interrelation of, 
12 ff. ; subject-matter of, 3 f . 

Self-evidence, of conscience, 90 f . ; 
of moral rules, 118. 

Selfishness and sympathy, 267 ff . 

Seneca, 187. 

Sensation, and pleasure-pain, 243. 

Sergi, 232 n. 2. 

Setii, J.,63?i. 3, 200. 

Shaftesbury, 261, 262 n. 7 ; on con- 
science, 36 n. 1, 37 f . ; on highest 
good, 194 f. 

Shakespeare, 287, 303. 

Sidgwick, H., 113 n. 1, 177, 179, 
203 n. 1, 207, 240 n. 3, 262 n. 7; 
on consciousness of freedom, 334 ; 
on highest good, 173 ff. ; on mo- 
tive of action, 222 n.2; on un- 
conscious pleasure-pain, 235. 

Simmel, 73. 

Smith, A., 41, 262 n. 7. 

Socrates, 27, 123; on highest good, 
180 f. 

Sophists, 180. 

Spencer, 259 n. 1, 262 n. 7 ; on con- 



science, 66 ff . ; on highest good, 

175; on obligation, 108 f. ; on 

pleasure-pain as consequence of 

action, 240. 
Spinoza, 230 n. 1 ; on highest good, 

190 ff. 
Spiritualism and free will, 325 f . 
Steinthal, on will, 214 a. 1. 
Stephen, 72, 144 f., 262 n. 7 ; on 

highest good, 197 f. 
Stewart, 35 n. 1. 
Stoics, on highest good, 186 f . 
Subjective and objective morality, 

142 ff. 
Sully, 93 n. 1. 
Summum bonum, see Highest 

Good. 
Sutherland, 66 n. 2, 73. 
Sympathy, 278 ff . ; growth of, 

278 ff . ; as a moral motive, 

269 ff . ; selfishness and, 267 ff . 
Synderesis, 30 ff., 89. 
Syneidesis, 30. 

T. 

Teleological schools, 124 ff . 

Teleological theory, 118 ff., 129 ff. ; 
and atheism, 150 f . ; and con- 
science, 129 ff . ; and intuitionism, 
152 ff. 

Tennyson, 112. 

Theodorus, 159, 176. 

Theology, and theories of will, 
323 f . 

Theoretical and practical ethics, 
22 f . 

Theory and practice, 5 n. 3. 

Thomas Aquinas, 118 n. 1, 150. 

Tyndall, on free will, 321; on re- 
sponsibility, 337. 

U. 

Unconscious pleasure-pain as mo- 
tive, 234 ff . 
Utilitarianism, 118 ff., 126 n. 2, 
129 ff. 

V. 
Vices, 311 ff. 
I Virtue and happiness, 303 ff . 



346 



INDEX 



Virtues, and impulses, 312 f . ; and 

vices, 311 ff. 
"Volition, 212 ff . ; antecedents of, 

215 ff . ; and pleasure-pain, 238. 
Volkmann, 83 n.2. 
Voltaire, 262; on pessimism, 297. 

W. 

Ward, on free will, 330 f. 
Will, 212 ff . ; freedom of, 316 ff . 
William Occam, 117 ; on conscience, 
47 n. 1. 



Williams, 259 n. 2, 274 n. 1, 

315. 
Wordsworth, 98. 
Wundt, 23 n. 2, 73, 110 n. 1, 230 n. 1, 

233 n. 2 ; on highest good, 199 f . ; 

on will, 215 n. 2. 



Z. 



Zeno, the Stoic, 186. 
Ziegler, Th., 200. 
Ziehen, on will, 213. 



BOOKS IN PHILOSOPHY 



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